


Not afraid to fall, not afraid to fight

by RonnieMinor



Series: Make Your Heart A Home [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Character Development, Coming of Age, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Oral Sex, Pack Dynamics, Pack Family, Physical Abuse, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-14
Updated: 2013-01-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 03:56:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RonnieMinor/pseuds/RonnieMinor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The house is built, the pack is whole, and senior year has just begun. For once, everything seems fine.</p><p>Unsurprisingly, that's when things start to get interesting.</p><p>A sort of sequel to Out of the Ashes(slight time-jump)/continuation of the OotA universe, now with familiar faces from Season 2 and added character development/angst/fluff/birthdays.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. New Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> SO. I full intended not to publish any of this until I'd finished the whole fic, but it was kind of killing me not to be able to share any of this. Hence why I'm putting up the first chapter.
> 
> Anyway, expect some new faces, some excitement, some drama... I have plenty in store for you!
> 
> Quick note: This verse is set post Season 1 and ignoring most of Season 2, although you will be some of the S2 characters in this fic. Out of the Ashes, the first fic in the series, has the gang being in Junior year instead of being Sophomores. The action of S1 also happens in the fall, rather than spring (as in canon). Currently, everyone (minus Derek, obvs) is in Senior year. 
> 
> Also, all birthdays are shared headcanon of myself and the lovely Godbriel - and once again, canon is ignored.
> 
> Sorry this note is so long! Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang return to school for senior year. 
> 
> It's not going to be a quiet one.

Senior year… well it starts interestingly enough. Stiles is kind of grateful in a way – he has a long-standing tradition of judging how the year as a whole is going to pan out based on the first day back. At least he’s got a heads-up; considering how _last_ year turned out, Stiles is now fully aware of just how action-packed things may come to be. This is also how he justifies keeping wolfsbane, bandages, lock picks, table salt and an iron spanner in his bag. It pays to be prepared for the worst. 

Admittedly, this year doesn’t start with half a dead body in the woods, getting hauled home by his dad, or with Scott getting bitten by an Alpha werewolf. It _does_ start with an Alpha werewolf and some biting – of a somewhat different nature – but the other excitement comes in the form of Jackson finally making his move on Danny and the wonderful, _wonderful_ news that Professor Harris has left. As a result, the pack is surrounded by a sort of aura of contentment, and Stiles manages to get through a whole chemistry class without being belittled once. It’s pretty awesome. 

And it carries on being awesome - for a while anyway. They celebrate Lydia turning eighteen in the first week of school, with a party of such epic proportions that it kind of makes Stiles’ head spin (and will definitely go down in school legend for at least the next five years). Then they have a pack-only do, which starts after the first party finishes (in the early, _early_ hours of Saturday morning) when they all head back to the Hale ( _pack_ ) House, and doesn’t end until school comes around on Monday morning. A weekend drinking with werewolves means that Stiles spends around 48 hours feeling like he might puke at the sight of food and gets out of lacrosse practice because he apparently turns green when Finstock tells the team to do laps. Luckily, Danny and Allison are in equally bad shape, so the three human pack members spend their time groaning sympathetically at each other and trying not to die. 

In a moment of truly amazing parenting, his father pretends not to notice the horrible alcohol withdrawal symptoms that his son is suffering through. Stiles will forever be grateful. 

It feels like he’s barely recovered (and he continues to remind himself that he has until November before he has to worry about doing this again) when excitement rears its ugly head. It arrives innocuously enough, in the form of Danny and Jackson talking heatedly as they come home from school one day a couple of week after Lydia’s birthday. Stiles eavesdrops shamelessly for two reasons: firstly, because he’s always been nosey. Secondly, because he knows Lydia and Allison will be listening in too, and he has always hated being out of the loop. 

‘Well you could at least go to the police or something’, Danny says, sounding indignant. ‘Or you could tell a teacher – you could do _something_ , Jax.’ 

‘And say what exactly? That I somehow ‘know’ that this has been going on? It’s not like I can say ‘Oh by the way, I’m a werewolf with super-sensitive ears and I can hear what’s happening halfway down the street if I try hard enough’.’ Stiles recognises Jackson’s tone of voice as heading towards seriously pissed off and mentally prepares for some kind of shit-fit in the immediate future. He sneaks a peak over his shoulder, looking into the hallway. Jackson looks tired as he says, ‘Anyway, it’s not my responsibility to babysit some kid who can’t look after himself.’ 

Danny looks disgusted. ‘Can you hear yourself right now? Because you know you’re being a douche, right? A real, Class-A asshole.’ 

Jackson sneers, his patience clearly gone. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t realise us dating meant you get to have a say in my behaviour.’ 

Danny closes his eyes and laughs bitterly. ‘And _I_ didn’t realise us dating meant I had to ignore the fact that you’re completely full of shit sometimes.’ He chucks his lacrosse gear in the hall and starts walking towards the stairs. ‘I’ll be in my room when you’re ready to apologise.’ 

Jackson watches him go but makes no attempt to follow him, instead glaring at everyone in the den. ‘What? Don’t you morons have something better to do than listen in on other peoples’ business?’ 

Stiles turns his attention back to his textbook, but he can practically _hear_ Lydia rolling her eyes a few feet away, and Allison is radiating the kind of quiet discomfort that says she’s really bothered. It’s been a while since Jackson had an outburst like this – it seems like everyone had forgotten just how much of a dick he can be sometimes. 

Derek’s voice cuts through the heavy silence and Stiles glances up to see him standing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Jackson, I think we should talk. Now.’ There’s a serious expression on his face as well as a tinge of Alpha command in his voice, which is probably all that’s keeping Jackson from throwing a tantrum and refusing to do as he’s asked. Sullenly, Jackson heads into the kitchen, shoulders tight and tense. Derek looks over at the den, giving Stiles a brief nod to assure him that things are ok. 

‘Lydia, I don’t think I need to remind you that some conversations are meant to be private’, Derek says, his voice level. Lydia rolls her eyes again, but there’s no real heat behind it, even though Derek can’t see her. 

‘Yes, _Dad_ ’, she says, and continues to work on whatever insane AP Math project she’s doing. 

Derek nods again. ‘Ok.’ Then he heads back into the kitchen and shuts the door. 

* * *

Stiles spends the next forty-five minutes trying and failing to focus on his chemistry homework, while surreptitiously trying to catch a hint of what is being said in the kitchen. 

From time to time he catches snatches of raised voices (mostly Jackson’s) and maybe a word or two, but nothing to satisfy his curiosity. He opens his mouth to ask Lydia if she’ll listen in for him, but she cuts him off before he’s even got a word out. 

‘Not a chance Stilinski. Don’t bother begging either.’ And that’s that, because much as Stiles loves Lydia, she is still scary as hell and probably able to break him in half with the top joint of her little finger. He sulks after that, moodily flipping the pages of his textbook and thinking angry thoughts about stupid werewolves and their stupid loyalty. 

Lydia looks up after about ten minutes, glaring. ‘Quit it Stiles. I can hear you thinking and it’s making my wolf angry. I’m not going to disobey my Alpha for you, even if you are his favoured snuggle buddy. I got the tattoo, remember?’ 

That shuts down any protest Stiles was about to voice, because he _does_ remember Lydia getting the tattoo. About a week before she turned eighteen, Derek had asked her if she wanted to get the same tattoo that he had on his back, which showed that you were a part of the Hale pack. He explained that the symbol was known as a triskele, or triskelion, signifying alpha, beta and omega, and how all three were connected. ‘It can mean anything you want though’, he’d said. ‘It could be the phases of the moon, or past, present and future; anything you like. The choice is up to you though.’ 

He’d gone on to say that his had been done on his sixteenth birthday, as was tradition within the Hale family, and that he’d then been taught how to make the mark on others, which was also tradition. If Kate Argent hadn’t burned his family alive two months later, he’d have been the one to tattoo his little brother Jack when the time came. 

‘It’s permanent’, Derek had said. ‘If you get this done, that’s it – no changing your mind. Even if you leave the pack, you’ll carry the mark to the grave. That’s why I waited until you were eighteen – I want you to make this decision as an adult.’ 

Lydia had made her mind up by the next day, and on the Saturday of her birthday weekend, Derek had spent a few hours creating a small triple spiral on to the skin just above her left hip, using special ink laced with Wolfsbane that werewolf healing couldn’t get rid of. In a show of solidarity and a move that clearly made Derek happy, Allison – who had been eighteen for over six months by that point – got one too, in the same spot as Lydia. There was no Wolfsbane ink for her though, on account of the plant being highly toxic. 

Afterwards, the pair of them had proceeded to get well and truly wasted. ‘It really fucking hurts!’ Lydia had yelled later that night, horrifically drunk and dancing around the room like a mad person. ‘ _Really hurts_!’ 

Back in the present, Stiles sighs. ‘Yeah, ok, I’m sorry.’ 

Lydia nods. ‘Good.’ Then she returns to her work and leaves Stiles to twitching in his seat, wondering what the hell is taking Jackson and Derek so long. Thankfully, they appear five minutes later, Jackson looking thoroughly chastened as he heads up the stairs, presumably to apologise to Danny. Derek on the other hand… Derek looks tired. Worried, even. 

Stiles frowns. ‘Everything ok, big bad?’ And yeah, as pet names go, it’s a little out there, but then Derek’s not exactly the kind of guy you can call ‘babe’. Derek sighs, his brows drawing together as he comes into the den. ‘Allison, what time is Scott getting here?’ 

Allison checks her watch and looks up. ‘His shift finishes in half an hour, so maybe forty-five minutes? It depends on how busy they are really, but it shouldn’t be more than an hour.’ 

Derek nods, face impassive. ‘Ok. I’ll start cooking dinner soon then. Is lasagne good for everyone?’ Three nodding heads say yes. Derek smiles a little at that. ‘Well at least you’re easy to feed.’ Then he turns and heads out of the room, going back into the kitchen. Stiles stays where he is for all of two minutes, before giving up on getting any more work done tonight and joining Derek. 

Derek is leaning against a counter, his forearms braced and his head hanging low. Stiles wraps his arms around him from behind, pressing a kiss to Derek’s neck and feeling the steady beat of his heart. They stay like that for a few minutes. Finally, Stiles says quietly, 

‘Something’s happened, hasn’t it?’ 

Derek sighs, straightening up and wrapping his arms around Stiles’. ‘Not yet, but it might. I can’t tell you until after dinner – this is something the pack needs to discuss as a whole.’ There’s a hint of apology in his voice and it tugs in Stiles’ chest. He slides his arms out from under Derek’s and moves so that they’re face to face. 

‘It’s ok. Seriously. It’s ok’, he says. Then he kisses Derek, close-mouthed and chaste, just a brush of mouths that initiates something deeper; a hot, wet press of lips and tongue that leaves Stiles somewhere between utterly relaxed and kind of turned on. Derek’s shoulders soften under his hands, their bodies pressing close. They’re quiet, sharing a long moment of peace and warmth, mouths moving gently together. It makes Stiles feel like someone’s stuck a piece of the sun in his chest. 

When they pull apart, Stiles keeps his hands on Derek’s shoulders, fingers kneading at the knots there. He gives a reassuring smile. ‘Whatever this is, it’s going to be ok. The pack will talk it over and we’ll find a solution, I promise.’ 

Derek nods, making a contented sound as Stiles’ hands continue to work away the tension in his neck and shoulders. ‘I should really start making dinner’, he mumbles, dopey-sounding and adorable. Stiles fights the urge to ‘aww’ at him and says instead, 

‘Do you want a hand with that?’ 

Derek smiles, small and warm. ‘Yes, I would. Would you mind doing the onions and carrots?’ 

‘No problem’, Stiles says. He wanders around grabbing things he needs. He starts to peel and chop the onions, blinking hard so as not to cry. Derek snorts in amusement. 

Stiles sticks out his tongue. Derek grins. And it’s simple, so simple in moments like this that Stiles wonders if he’ll ever want anyone else. But the thought’s too serious for this time and this place, so he puts it out of his head and for a little while, they just work on in companionable silence. 

* * *

Scott gets home about five minutes after all the lasagne goes into the oven, sticking his head round the door to check in with Derek before he goes to Allison. And Stiles really shouldn’t find it sweet how in love they still are, over a year after they first started dating – but he does. He disguises it by making vomiting noises at Scott’s retreating back. Scott flips him the bird without even looking. It’s all as normal. 

Derek snorts again. Stiles turns to him and makes a ‘What?’ face, which is actually more of a full-body facial expression, but whatever. Derek rolls his eyes. 

‘When I first met the pair of you, I used to wonder why you were friends with Scott. I mean, you’re shrewd, you’re smart; you actually know how to research and make a decent plan. It didn’t make sense that you were hanging out with _Scott_.’ 

‘Hey, I heard that!’ Scott calls from the other room, sounding mildly offended. 

‘Then you know it’s all true, idiot!’ Stiles calls back. He hears Lydia and Allison trying not to giggle. He smiles and looks at Derek. ‘Carry on! I like hearing about why I’m too awesome to hang out with Scott.’ 

Derek grins. ‘Well then I realised… it’s because you’re just as much of a dork as he is.’ 

Lydia outright _cackles_ at that, and Stiles knows from experience it means Allison will be smothering a laugh too. He can hear Scott laughing as well, to add insult to injury. So he turns his nose up at Derek and pouts. 

‘Rude’, he says. ‘Totally rude – not that I’d expect anything better from a Sourwolf like you.’ 

Derek grabs him and pulls him in for a kiss. ‘I’m sure I can find a way for you to forgive me’, he growls against Stiles’ neck, before proceeding to give one of his uber-hickeys that leave Stiles looking like he’s gone a couple of rounds with a toothless vampire. Of course, it also has the effect of making Stiles’ knees go weak (he has a very sensitive neck, ok?) and giving him a semi. He’s totally not complaining. 

‘Dad, quit getting handsy with Mom while we’re in the next room. You’re going to put me off my dinner’, Lydia calls, because she’s a moment-killing bitch. 

‘You’re a moment-killing bitch’, Stiles calls back, eyeing Derek regretfully as he pulls away. 

‘I know – isn’t it wonderful?’ Lydia replies sweetly. And yeah, ok, Stiles isn’t going to argue with her really, because fighting Lydia inevitably ends up with someone crying – and it’s rarely her. Instead he mutters darkly into Derek’s chest about stupid werewolf pups who don’t know their place and revels in the way he can feel it when Derek chuckles. 

‘It’s like Teen Mom without the fun of sex, or people paying to film my life’, he whines. ‘I did not sign up for this.’ Derek just carries on chuckling. Stiles would find it annoying if it weren’t for the fact that a contented Derek is the best kind of Derek – well, second to horny Derek anyway. 

In the end, they wind up wandering through to the den and hanging out until the timer in the kitchen goes off. Stiles goes to get the lasagnes out of the oven and check on the garlic bread, while Derek calls up the stairs, ‘Jackson, Danny, come and set the table for dinner.’ He really is Papa Wolf, even if he doesn’t admit it. Stiles finds it ridiculously endearing. 

Danny and Jackson come downstairs about five minutes later, because apparently something about being a werewolf makes you act even more like a rebellious teenager than normal, and Jackson likes to test the limits of Derek’s patience on a fairly regular basis. On the plus side, he and Danny seem to be ok, shoulders knocking together as they walk and hands brushing. As a couple, they don’t seem to be big on public displays of affection (which is just fine by Stiles), but they compensate by having this kind of aura-thing around them that just screams intimacy. It makes Stiles think that they’ll last – he hopes they will anyway, although it’ll only happen if Jackson manages to keep his inner douchebag in check and Danny resists the urge to kill him. The odds aren’t necessarily in their favour. 

Jackson sniffs the air as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. ‘Lasagne?’ he asks, his eyes gleaming gold briefly. 

‘Yup’, Stiles says. ‘Lovingly cooked by Derek and me for all you vile creatures. Now go and set the table, or I’ll personally make sure that you don’t get any garlic bread.’ 

Stiles definitely does _not_ think about how his parenting skills are way better than Derek’s when Jackson practically _blurs_ in his haste to go and get the table ready. When he’d first started dating Derek, he’d kind of tried to hold back on telling people to do things or bossing the pack around. He hadn’t felt like it was his place – it wasn’t like he was a claimed mate or anything, and he really didn’t want to try and navigate the murky waters of pack hierarchy. 

He stopped worrying about it after about a month though, because everyone seemed to kind of expect him to give orders and really, it goes against his nature not to try and be in control of things. The irony of this desire vs. his ADHD is not lost on him. Anyway, he’d slotted into the role of ‘pack mom’ with ease, and now he just rolls with the jokes. He knows what he is. It doesn’t bother him at all – it’s not like he hasn’t been surrogate parenting Scott _and_ his own father for the best part of a decade anyway. Besides, Derek needs someone to play good cop to his big, Alpha bad cop. Stiles is more than happy to be that person. 

He spends the next ten minutes overseeing the carrying of food from the kitchen to the dining room and making sure that everybody gets an equal share of garlic bread and first servings of lasagne. He tries not to think about the way Derek’s eyes linger on him, warm and affectionate, or how he feels like he could do this for the rest of his life. They’ve been dating for just over three months. It’s not long enough to make a judgement call on the rest of his life, especially not as he’s only seventeen. 

Thankfully, he’s distracted by food and pack mates for the next hour or so, supervising everyone and making sure that no food gets on the walls of carpet. It’s more work than you’d imagine, especially as the upcoming full moon has filled all Derek’s little wolves with super playfulness and the general ability to be even more of a handful than usual. Stiles sometimes feels like he’s looking after a bunch of toddlers. Allison’s sympathetic glance tells him she knows exactly what he’s thinking. 

* * *

After what feels like forever , everyone has gorged themselves to their content, and it’s a really good thing Derek seems to be made of money, because otherwise he’d be eaten out of house and home in about a month. The table is cleared under Stiles’ watchful eye, and then it’s time to get down to business. Allison brings in a tray of hot drinks – because she’s an actual Disney Princess and Stiles’ favourite – and gives everyone their chosen poison, before she sits down and turns to Derek, asking: 

‘So what’s going on? Is it hunters? I haven’t heard my parents mention anything though.’ 

Derek shakes his head. ‘It’s not hunters.’ There’s a collective sort of slump of relief around the table. Everyone knows hunters mean trouble – just because there’s a truce in place with the Argents doesn’t mean that other hunters will be as understanding. Derek doesn’t look any less tense though. 

‘Jackson tells me that there’s a boy living across the street from him whose father is mistreating him.’ 

There’s a pause while the information sinks in. Allison asks, ‘By ‘mistreating’ do you mean… do you mean abusing him?’ Derek nods. Allison nods in return, looking pale. ‘It’s not – it’s not sexual, is it?’ The words hang in the air. Everyone looks a little sick. 

‘It’s not sexual’, Jackson says quickly. ‘I never heard anything like that when I was, uh, listening in.’ Stiles knows it’s wrong to be relieved, but he is regardless. 

‘It’s physical’, Derek says, his tone serious, and wow, there goes any sense of relief. ‘Jackson, correct me if I’m wrong here – you said he’s beating his son?’ Jackson nods, looking unusually subdued. ‘Yeah. I mean, I never noticed before, but he treats Isaac like a slave and as soon as he does anything wrong, he beats the crap out of him.’ 

Scott frowns. ‘Wait, you mean Isaac Lahey?’ 

Stiles feels his stomach clench. Derek frowns. ‘Do you know him?’ 

Stiles, Scott and Danny all nod. ‘He’s on the lacrosse team’, Stiles says. ‘I mean, he’s mainly on the bench like me, but he’s not bad. He doesn’t play much though, cause he’s always injured.’ Realisation hits him and he feels bile rising up in his stomach. ‘Oh god’, he mumbles. ‘I think I’m gonna be sick.’ 

Allison bolts at that point, and Stiles can hear her throwing up in the kitchen. He swallows desperately, trying to ignore the nausea in his stomach. Lydia gets up and lays a gentle hand on his shoulder before she goes after Allison. Scott’s eyes flash gold as he looks at Jackson. ‘

Why didn’t you say anything before now?’ he growls. Stiles feels a flash of admiration towards his best friend – whatever else he may be, Scott really is a good guy. 

Jackson looks deeply uncomfortable. ‘I didn’t realise before the bite, ok? And I’d never have noticed if it I hadn’t been dumping some trash a few weeks back and heard a plate smashing. I listened in for little while, and I’ve been listening every couple of days since then.’ He shrugs unhappily. ‘Look, I didn’t know what to do, alright?’ 

Stiles is pretty sure that the only thing that keeps Scott from tearing Jackson into pieces right then and there is Derek’s roar, full of Alpha command and dominance. Stiles pushes down the sickness he feels, then goes round to the other side of the table to grab Scott and pull him out of the room before he does something stupid. He takes him to the kitchen, were Allison is sitting at the table with a glass of water between her hands, looking pale and shaken. Lydia has an arm round her and is stroking her hair, but steps away when she sees Scott. 

‘We’ll give you guys a minute’, she says. She and Stiles leave the kitchen and head back into the dining room, where Derek is staring into space and Jackson practically on the verge of tears. Danny has an arm round his shoulders, and Jackson’s fists are clenched so tightly that they’re white. 

Lydia glares. ‘Jackson, if I didn’t think it would make a mess on the carpet and piss off Mom and Dad, I would rip you _limb from limb_ right now’, she hisses. ‘While I’m fully aware that your parents completely failed to shape you into a decent human being, I thought maybe you might have learned a little compassion from us!’ There’s more in this vein, but Stiles feels sick and shaky and slumps into a chair, tuning out Lydia’s words even though he knows he should stop her. _No wonder Derek looked so bad earlier_ , he thinks. _How do you process something like this? How do you learn something like this and just carry on as normal?_

‘We have to do something’, he blurts. Lydia stops mid-sentence and turns to him. 

‘What?’ 

‘We have to do something. We have to help Isaac. I don’t know how, but we have to help him.’ 

‘How?’ Jackson asks. ‘I mean, what can _we_ do to help? It’s not like Isaac’s going to admit to anything if we report it, and his dad is a _pro_ at winning people over – he was still coach of the swim team when I joined in freshman year and he was a total sadist, but the way he acted with any adults… you’d never have guessed it.’ 

Stiles shrugs, feeling irrationally angry at Jackson’s lack of enthusiasm, despite the fact that his point makes sense. ‘Look, just because _you_ refuse to do anything about this doesn’t mean I have to! Isaac’s being abused by his own _father_. We need to find a way to make life better for him.’ 

‘What about giving him the bite?’ Lydia suggests quietly. 

‘That wouldn’t go down well with my parents’, Allison says from the doorway, looking pale but composed with Scott by her side. 

‘And it’s too risky’, Derek says gravely. ‘Remember how Scott and Jackson lost control when they were first bitten? Now imagine you’re a frightened boy, backed into a corner by someone who’s hurt you before and is going to do it again. Isaac will lash out, just like a wild animal. And then he’d have a dead father and we’d have a much bigger problem on our hands – Allison’s parents may have made a truce with us, but if Isaac killed his father, they’d be well within their rights to kill _him_ , according to the code.’ He sighs, looked very tired. ‘There’s no easy solution to this, so for the meantime, keep an eye on Isaac at school and let me know what’s going on with him.’ 

The Derek fixes Jackson with a glare. ‘And _you_ are going to watch him at home, and continue listening in on him. I expect a full report every day and you call me if anything really bad happens. If we can stop Isaac getting hurt any worse than he already has been, we will.’ He sighs again, his voice weary and full of sadness. ‘I think perhaps everyone should go home now.’ 

Silence settles on the room, then Lydia gets up, presses a kiss to Derek’s cheek and heads out. Scott and Allison follow her, as do Danny and Jackson, who mumbles, ‘I’m sorry’, as he leaves. Stiles stays where he is, his legs strangely weak. 

‘You should go’, Derek says. There’s not much conviction behind it. 

Stiles sends him a wry smile. ‘Sure Sourwolf, I’ll just run off and leave you to stew in your misery, because that’s _definitely_ the supportive thing to do.’ He levers himself up, walking on unsteady legs to where Derek sits at the head of the table. His hands land on Derek’s shoulders again, fingers settling into a familiar pattern of pushing and pressing until Derek relaxes a little. Stiles presses a kiss into his hair. 

‘We’ll figure this out. I know today didn’t go according to plan, but that doesn’t mean we won’t find a way to make this work. We just need a little time.’ Derek turns round to face him. ‘Do you really think that? Because all I see is one of my pack completely failing to make an effort to act like a decent human being and the rest of them having no idea how to help some seventeen year old kid who’s home life is hell.’ There’s a sting of accusation in his words, but Stiles has learned by now to know when Derek is angry at himself. 

So he nods and says, ‘Yes, I really think that. I also think that shouldn’t blame yourself for this. Jackson spent the best part of sixteen and a half years being an asshole before you turned up. It’s not your fault that he still forgets how to act like a normal person from time to time, just like it’s not _his_ fault that he didn’t know how to handle this. It’s also not your fault that Isaac’s dad is a total bastard, ok? So you stop doing all that broody ‘I am to blame for all the world’s evil’ crap that I _know_ you’re doing and come upstairs with me instead.’ 

Derek raises an eyebrow at him. Stiles rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t give me that look. First off, I know you, so there’s no point even trying to deny your internal pity party. Secondly, my dad knows I’m staying over tonight. And finally, forgive me for thinking you might prefer getting off to sitting around moping. If you’d rather not, I can always just go upstairs by myself – but I _will_ be asleep by the time you come to bed.’ 

In the blink of an eye, Derek has him pressed up a wall (yeah, he should never have mentioned that it’s kind of a turn-on) and is staring at him intensely. ‘You are incorrigible’, he says. And Stiles would totally reply, but Derek keeps his mouth pretty thoroughly otherwise occupied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fic title is taken fron 'Mirror for Me' by Suzy Thomas, which is an awesome song. You should check it out.


	2. when life gives you lemons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac becomes the pack's focus. Things take a turn for the tragic.

The rest of the week (and the full moon) passes without incident, although there’s still a definite sense of tension – which isn’t helped by the fact that Lydia hasn’t spoken to Jackson since the meeting. In fact, she’s not the only one who’s been giving Jackson a wide berth. Scott still looks about two seconds from wolfing out every time he and Jackson are within five feet of one another, while Allison just looks faintly ill. It niggles at Stiles, and he makes a mental note to speak to Derek about it. After all, if he’d been in Jackson’s situation, he’s not sure he’d have handled the issue any better. 

Another new development is the fact that Stiles notices Isaac much more now. It’s almost like finding out about Isaac’s secret has fixed the boy permanently on his radar. Stiles watches him throughout the school day, and feels decidedly worse when he realises just how many classes they share – classes that Stiles hadn’t even known Isaac was in previously. Slowly, he begins to build up a picture of what Isaac like. Clever (with the exception of Chemistry, and Stiles knows how that feels) but quiet. Polite. Deferential. Stiles wonders how he’d failed to see the way Isaac shrinks in on himself, making himself small and unnoticeably – or the way he flinches when Finstock shouts. The sheer extent of his own ignorance makes him feel sick. 

His mood doesn’t improve a week later, when he and Derek are disturbed from a scent-marking session (Derek’s macho-man codename for cuddling) by Derek’s phone blaring out the ring tone he’s set for Jackson. Even Stiles' momentary delight brought on by the fact that he managed to convince Derek to use ‘You’re So Vain’ isn’t enough to distract him from the idea that something bad has happened. Stiles sits up anxiously, watching as Derek’s back tightens. His stomach drops, and he twists the strings of his hoodie in his hands, waiting for Derek to let him know what’s going on. 

‘There’s been an accident’, Derek says finally, his back still turned. ‘Isaac and his father were fighting. Isaac left the house and rode off on his bike. His father followed him in his car. Jackson followed _him_ and he says… he says that Mr Lahey tried to run Isaac off the road.’ Stiles can almost _hear_ Derek’s teeth grinding together as he says, ‘Isaac got knocked off his bike. He’s hurt, but not badly. Mr Lahey… he lost control of the car. It flipped. Jackson dialled an ambulance as soon as it happened, but the paramedics declared him D.O.A.’ 

Stiles feels himself go numb. ‘Dead on arrival’, he whispers. ‘So Isaac’s alone.’ 

Derek turns to face him, frowning. ‘No, he’s not. He has an older brother – Camden, I think he’s called. He was in my year at school.’ 

Stiles shakes his head sadly, feeling his eyes prickle with tears. ‘I forgot that you weren’t here when that happened.’ He sighs, the weight of memory heavy. ‘Camden joined the army when he was eighteen, probably to get away from his dad. Anyway, a few years back, he was out in Afghanistan when his convoy was hit by rebels. He got shot, but he would have survived if they’d got back to base quicker. Apparently he died just as they arrived. Isaac was fourteen.’ 

Derek sort of _sags_. ‘I had no idea’, he says eventually. ‘I checked the town records the other day and there was no mention.’ 

Stiles chuckles bitterly. ‘They’ve moved everything on to computers now. They don’t bother updating the paper copies any more – apparently it’s not _efficient_.’ He takes a shaky breath. ‘Fuck. Poor Isaac. His mom died in a car accident too, you know. It happened not long after… not long after my mom passed away.’ And try as he might, he can’t hold back the tears that splash hotly down his cheeks, or the sobs that seem to rip their way out of his chest. 

‘I don’t even know why I’m crying’, he chokes into Derek’s shoulder, his hands fisted into the material of Derek’s top. ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry.’ 

But Derek just holds him and tells him that it’s ok, until the shaking and the vicious sadness have passed. Then he wipes Stiles’ tear-stained cheeks with two broad thumbs, presses a kiss to his forehead and tugs him up from the bed. ‘Come on’, he says. ‘We’ve got things to do.’ 

* * *

They go to the station first, where Jackson’s giving a statement. He looks surly, and like he might be about to throw a tantrum in a minute. When he sees Derek relief washes across his face and yeah, _that’s_ not going to make anybody ask questions. Derek hasn’t even been a person of interest since last year, but normal human prejudice makes up for that. A few of the officers eye him oddly as he walks over and places his hand on the back of Jackson’s neck, giving it a reassuring squeeze. Stiles pretends that the strange looks don’t bother him and heads over to join them. 

‘Everything ok?’ he asks Jackson. He gets a terse nod in return. 

‘I just don’t know why I’m still here. I’ve already told them everything. I don’t know why I can’t just go home.’ Stiles nods and turns to the man taking Jackson’s statement. It’s Sean Davis, one of the officers he’s known for a while. 

‘Hey, Sean, is there much left to do?’ he asks. Sean shrugs. 

‘We’ve got his statement – Mr Whittemore can go for now. But we’re going to need to need to speak to him again at some point, so he’s going to need to stay in Beacon Hills for the next couple of weeks.’ 

Stiles nods, forcing himself to grin. ‘Ok, cool. Well in that case we’ll take him off your hands for now.’ He jerks his head. ‘Come on Jackson. We’ll grab pizza on the way home – I’ll even let you pick the topping, if you’re good.’ 

Jackson grumbles something sounds like, ‘Whatever _Mom_ ’, but does as he’s told. Sean gives Stiles an odd look. Stiles shrugs. 

‘He responds best to bribery’, he says, and that’s as much explanation as anyone’s going to get. He ignores the fact that Derek’s doing that twitchy-mouth-thing which means he’s trying not to laugh. Whatever. Stiles Stilinski gets shit done. 

* * *

They do get pizza, but they go to the hospital first, where Isaac is currently being treated. Scott has also been getting information out of his mom, because Melissa McCall not only seems to run the hospital almost single-handed, but she also knows _all_ the gossip. Apparently Isaac’s got some seriously nasty grazes and bruises, a few cuts, a sprain and a bad concussion, but aside from that he’s ok. Stiles feels a weight lift off his shoulders at the news. 

He’s in the middle of relief-hugging Derek when he hears a familiar cough behind him. Spinning round, he comes face to face with his dad. He would try not to blush, but he knows that’s a losing battle, so he just settles for scrubbing his hand awkwardly through his hair and looking at the ground. ‘ _Hey_ Dad! Fancy meeting you here!’ 

The Sheriff raises an eyebrow. ‘Stiles, how about we just skip the part where you lie about what you’re doing and just get to the bit where you _sort of_ tell me what’s going on? That sound alright to you?’ 

Stiles feels his face get redder and redder by the second. ‘Uh, yeah, sure. Umm, so we’re here to see if Isaac’s ok. I mean, we know him from school and Jackson was the one who reported the accident and yeah, we wanted to check that he’s alright.’ And ironically, it’s all the truth. 

His dad frowns for a minute, then nods. ‘Ok. Well I guess that makes sense.’ Stiles breathes a sigh of relief and is about to run off when his father says, ‘There’s one other thing though.’ Stiles turns back around and tries not to let it show that his heart is practically beating out of his chest. 

‘One other thing?’ he squeaks. 

His dad nods. ‘Yeah. Seeing as Isaac doesn’t have any family he can stay with, and it’ll take a while to get him into the foster system, he’s going to be staying with us for the time being. I’d like you to get the guest room ready for him tonight. He might not be discharged tonight, but I’d rather be prepared, just in case.’ 

Stiles nods slowly. ‘Sure, I can do that Dad.’ Then, impulsively, he steps forwards and wraps his arms around his father, squeezing him tightly. ‘I love you’, he says. 

‘Love you too, son’, his father says gruffly, returning the hug. ‘But I still want you at home tonight.’ 

Stiles sighs. ‘Yeah, _fine_. But is it ok if Derek and Jackson stay for a little bit? Just until you get home?’ 

The Sheriff rolls his eyes. ‘Yes, they can stay – but _only_ ‘til eleven-thirty. If I’m not back by then, I expect them both to go home. You have school tomorrow, and so does Jackson. The last thing I want is another accident happening because people are driving when they’re tired.’ 

‘Yep Dad, sure Dad, ok I’ll see you later, alright?’ Nodding furiously, Stiles grabs Derek’s hand and gets out of the hospital as fast as he can. He collapses in relief when they get back to his jeep. ‘Phew. I mean, I know he’s ok with us dating and everything, but it’s still super awkward and then he made that _school_ comment and-’ 

Derek cuts him off with a kiss. ‘Look, we were totally up front about our relationship when we told him – you remember _that_? The awful, ‘We’re dating and no, we weren’t doing anything when I was living in your house for six months, and no I’m not going to have sex with your son while he’s a minor and _yes_ , I do know that you have access to many, many guns and could bury my body somewhere nobody will ever find it’, talk we had? Because the reason we _had_ that talk was to check that your dad was ok with us.’ Derek sighs. ‘Six years is a big gap at this age, even if I hadn’t been part of a murder investigation fairly recently. It’s natural that he’s going to struggle with this from time to time. But he said he was ok with us being together, and your father’s a man of his word. So you need to _calm down_ , get in the jeep and drive us to somewhere that does pizza. Ok?’ 

Stiles nods and leans up to steal another kiss. He totally ignores the vomit-noises coming from inside the jeep, where Jackson’s been since they arrived at the hospital. ‘Ok’, he says when he pulls back. And he feels better, he really does. 

* * *

As it turns out, Isaac is kept in hospital overnight for observation. He’s not at school the next day either, but when Stiles gets home after lacrosse, his dad’s car is in the drive and there’s a load of stuff in the back seat. Stiles, who (unlike Scott) is able to put two and two together, arrives at the conclusion that it must be Isaac’s stuff, which probably means that Isaac is here. So he takes a minute to compose himself and then he heads inside. 

‘Hey Dad’, he calls up the stairs. ‘Did you get off early or something?’ He waits for an answer, but none is forthcoming. He winds up wandering into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of cookies from his hidden stash (he doesn’t trust his dad not to eat them if they’re left out in the open) and flopping on to the couch to watch a re-run of Buffy. 

About half an hour later he’s watching Buffy kick the crap out of someone or other (predictable, but still entertaining) and idly texting Derek when his dad clears his throat. Stiles flails slightly, but manages to turn around without falling off the couch. His dad is standing in just inside the door, while Isaac lingers on the threshold, looking nervous. All in all, the whole set-up is hugely awkward. Stiles decides this needs fixing, so before his dad has a chance to say anything, he jumps right in. 

‘Oh hey Dad, how was work? School was ok – I mean, actually school was pretty good, seeing as we got to blow stuff up in Chemistry. Ms Carlton is really cool like that – _way_ nicer than Professor Harris. Even you thought he was a di- a not very nice guy, right? And even lacrosse was ok, cause Finstock had a cold or something so he didn’t shout half so much and Scott managed to avoid talking about Allison the _whole time_ so it was almost like he was a normal human being for once. Anyway, I don’t have any homework so I thought I’d just watch some TV for a bit and then start on dinner at like six? Is that ok?’ 

His father nods. ‘Sure Stiles, that’d be nice. Can you make enough to have leftovers? I’m working a double tomorrow.’ 

Stiles nods back. ‘Yeah, no problem Dad. Hey, Isaac, do you like Buffy? Cause they’re showing re-runs and I know the show finished like a decade ago or whatever, but Sarah Michelle Gellar is still _super-hot_ and cute girls kicking ass is a timeless classic, y'know? I mean, to be honest, I always had a thing for Faith – she was _so_ badass – and then there was that thing where she hooked up with Xander, which was awesome, because it means the nerd can totally get the girl. So anyway, you want to watch?’ 

Isaac looks a little stunned by Stiles’ chatter, but Stiles is used to that – it’s not like it wasn’t his aim in the first place – so he ignores it and smiles brightly until Isaac nods and joins him on the couch. Stiles shares a brief look with his father, then settles in to watch more Buffy, continuing to chatter aimlessly. It takes a while, but eventually Isaac seems to relax, and he even starts adding in a comment or two of his own. 

‘You know, I always preferred Firefly to this’, he says at one point and Stiles looks at him with his jaw on the floor. 

_‘You like Firefly?’_ he whispers. Isaac nods, looking slightly freaked out until Stiles starts grinning like an idiot. ‘Man that is _awesome_! I _love_ Firefly. Mal is so cool, and I just love the crew so much.’ He pauses. ‘Hey, I should probably start making dinner now, but do you want to watch some after? I have the box set.’ 

Isaac nods again. ‘I’d like that’, he says quietly, something like a smile tugging at his mouth. Stiles beams at him, his chest feeling warm. 

‘Yeah? Ok, cool! Anyway, like I said I need to get started with dinner, but you’re welcome to stay here and watch more TV if you want.’ 

‘What are you making?’ Isaac asks. Stiles shrugs. 

‘I cooked some mince yesterday, so probably lasagne. Does that sound ok?’ 

Isaac nods. ‘I like lasagne’, he says. ‘My dad used to make it for me if I did really well at school.’ Stiles says nothing, lost for words for once. Then Isaac smiles – he actually _smiles_ – and looks up at Stiles. ‘Can I help?’ he asks. 

Stiles nods slowly, smiling back at him. ‘Sure’, he says. ‘Sure you can.’ 

* * *

It’s about midnight, and Stiles up to his usual tricks of Adderall-fuelled research and staying up much too late, reading webpage after webpage in the hopes of finding any new information that might prove useful to the pack. Both Isaac and his father are asleep (or so he assumes), having both gone into their rooms a little after eleven. Stiles finds the idea of going to bed that early repellent, but each to their own – and it’s not like they haven’t had a couple of really stressful, really tiring days. He taps away at his keyboard, trying to find a Google search that doesn’t turn up as much rubbish as usual. And then he hears the noises. 

At first Stiles thinks it’s some animal outside, hurt or lost and crying for help. Then he remembers that he closed his window this evening (his signal for any of the wolf-kind he knows that he is not to be disturbed) and his hearing isn’t _that_ good. He frowns, listening hard, unable to think what he’s hearing for a minute or two. He feels like a total idiot when he realises that it’s the sound of someone crying; the sound of _Isaac_ crying. 

He sits still for five minutes – which is practically a miracle in itself – thinking about what to do. He argues with himself, wavering between the need to give Isaac some privacy, his own personal discomfort and his complete lack of knowing what to do. In the end, he decides that he can’t just sit here, pretending that there isn’t someone in the next door room who’s in pain. He can’t just ignore the fact that Isaac’s crying, or the fact that the boy is now totally alone in the world. He knows from experience that losing a parent is bad enough, but at least Stiles still has his father. Isaac has nobody, and Stiles hates that. 

He slips out of his room on silent feet (years of practice) and slides around Isaac’s door. He knows Isaac didn’t hear him, because when he sits down on the guest bed and puts a gentle hand on Isaac’s shoulder, the other boy jumps about a mile. Of course, he turns away and starts acting like he wasn’t just sobbing his heart out, but Stiles is having none of that. He knows exactly what it feels like to ache inside like you’ll be empty for the rest of your days. He knows now that you have to give in to it; to let it swallow you up until it’s all gone. 

So he tugs on Isaac’s shoulder and gets him to turn around. Stiles doesn’t say a word, just opens his arms and waits until Isaac shuffles forward into the embrace. Then they sit in the dark, Isaac crying and Stiles holding him until the sobs finally start to quieten. He stays after the crying has stopped; stays even when Isaac’s breathing starts to level, soft and shallow, like he’s on the verge of sleep. He stays longer than he means to, falling asleep propped against the headboard of the guest bed, Isaac’s head on his chest, his arms around Isaac’s torso. 

Stiles wakes up in the morning to a gentle cough, and cracks open his eyes to see his father, in uniform and obviously on his way to work. They share a look and Stiles manages to extract himself from the bed without waking Isaac, then pads downstairs with his dad. It’s six am and he feels like death, so he ignores the look he gets as he reaches for the coffee and starts making himself a cup. 

‘That was a good thing you did, son’, his father says. ‘And I’m really proud of you.’ 

Stiles shrugs softly. ‘I remember what that feels like. I can’t imagine how much worse it must be in his position and I just… I just didn’t want him to be alone. I know he _is_ alone, cause all his family are gone and everything. But I just didn’t want him to feel like he doesn’t have anyone who cares.’ 

His father nods, eyes a little brighter than usual. ‘Well, like I said, I’m proud of you. Anyway, I need to get to work, so I’ll see you tonight.’ And he heads out of the door, leaving Stiles alone to think about his mother, and family, and the boy sleeping upstairs. 

* * *

Actually, he ends up thinking about it over the next couple of days and doesn’t even realise how quiet he’s being until not one, but _four_ people ask him if he’s ok. Lydia and Scott sniff him anxiously when they think nobody’s watching, obviously thinking that there’s something going on with him. Stiles ignores them out of habit, his mind turning over and over as he thinks. In fact, he doesn’t even register the fact that he’s missed a pack bonding session on Saturday until his doorbell rings and his dad tells him to come and deal with the various delinquents on their front porch. 

‘You weren’t with us today’, Lydia says as soon as he gets to the door. ‘We had plans, Stiles. We even got that stupid pizza you like.’ 

Allison is a little less blunt. ‘Is everything ok? You’ve been really quiet this week. Everyone’s worried.’ 

‘Derek looks like he’s about to start scratching the furniture’, Danny says. The rest of them shoot him a look. He just shrugs, as chill as ever. ‘He does.’ 

‘Will you come over? It’s weird without you’, Jackson says – and that’s what makes Stiles realise that they’re all really worried, because Jackson _never_ talks about his feelings, or admits weakness. 

‘We can talk about what’s bothering you – if you want to, that is’, Scott adds. Stiles looks at them all and sighs, scrubbing his hands through his hair. 

‘I wish I could, but I’m kind of hanging out with Isaac, and I don’t really want to ditch him, y’know? He really needs a friend right now.’ He shrugs. There’s a pause. Then Lydia looks at him, her face caught somewhere between thoughtful and kind. 

‘He doesn’t only have to have _a_ friend, Stiles. He can come with us’, she says. 

Stiles frowns. ‘Do you think Derek will mind?’ 

Lydia makes a sort of ‘whatever’, hand gesture. ‘I’m sure it’ll be ok. He did ask us to keep an eye on Isaac, after all.’ Then she fixes Stiles with the look he knows from experience means that taking no for an answer is not an option. ‘Come on. Go get Isaac. We’ve got movies and everything. Jackson even offered to make the popcorn that his mom makes – her super special secret recipe.’ 

Stiles sighs, but nods because he knows how to pick his battles. ‘Sure’, he says. ‘I’ll come over. Just give me a second to tell Isaac.’ Then he heads inside and back into the living room, where an epic game of Call of Duty is paused on the tv screen. He slumps on to the couch next to Isaac, and says, ‘So a bunch of my friends want to hang out-’ 

‘It’s cool’, Isaac says quickly. ‘I don’t mind. I have some homework to do anyway.’ And he starts to get up, his body tense in a way that it wasn’t a second ago. Without thinking, Stiles reaches out and grabs his wrist. Then he realises what he’s done. 

‘Shit, sorry’, he says, letting Isaac go. ‘Look, when I said they want to hang out, I mean they want to hang out with _us_ – me _and_ you, ok? I mean, it’s just going to be some pizza and a movie or two and there’s bound to be a fight or something, because they _cannot_ keep their instincts under control, but it’s kind of fun and I just figured… I figured you might enjoy it too. So what do you say?’ 

Isaac looks at him, clearly confused. He frowns. ‘But why would they want to hang out with me?’ And Stiles tries really hard not to think about how many years of abuse and loneliness it must take for someone to have as little self-esteem as Isaac does. Instead, he shrugs. 

‘Well they’re voluntarily hanging out with me, so by comparison you probably look like a safer bet.’ He stands up and stretches. ‘Look, whatever. It doesn’t matter what you think – they want you to come hang out with us, and I do too. None of us are taking no for an answer, so grab a hoodie or whatever and come with. Ok?’ 

Isaac nods, looking a little stunned. ‘Ok’, he says. And Stiles is going to count that as a victory. 

* * *

The evening goes surprisingly well, all things considered. True, Isaac looks kind of disbelieving the whole time and it’s clear that everyone’s levels of affection make him feel a little weird – yeah, Stiles had totally forgotten that normal people don’t really do puppy piles – but he seems to enjoy himself. He’s smiling on the way home, which makes Stiles feel strangely warm and fuzzy. 

Stiles does feel a little guilty when he lies and says he’s just hanging out with Derek the next day, but he missed out on the chance to talk business with the pack the day before and he can’t do that with Isaac around. He feels less bad when everyone talks about how much fun they had and how Isaac seems like a really nice guy. It also makes bringing up his thoughts on the matter much easier. 

Over the next couple of weeks, Isaac hangs out with the pack several times. Then they tell him about werewolves. He watches the shifters of the pack transform with wide eyes, seeming more curious than scared. And after that, Derek offers him the bite – which Stiles had brought up again after that first evening Isaac spent with them, and which had (after much discussion) been decided to be the logical next step. Stiles makes sure that it’s all explained thoroughly and carefully, with equal weight placed on the positives and negatives. In the end it’s down to Isaac, the final decision placed in his hands. 

He looks at them all, his face closed in and just barely tinged with nerves. ‘Will… will I still be allowed to hang out with you guys if I say no?’ he asks after a minute or two. 

‘Of course you will’, Derek reassures him. ‘Danny, Allison, and Stiles are part of the pack and none of them have taken the bite.’ 

‘But they’re dating people in the group’, Isaac says. ‘They’re your _friends_.’ 

It’s Scott who places a warm hand on Isaac’s shoulder and says, ‘Yes, but you’re our friend too.’ 

Isaac looks like he’s on the brink of tears. ‘Really?’ he whispers. 

‘Really’, Lydia replies. She walks over to him, cupping his cheek with her hand; her face is softer than Stiles has ever seen it. ‘Regardless of if you say no, you’re still going to be our friend. And even if you stay human, if you stick around long enough, you’ll become part of the pack too.’ 

‘What does pack mean?’ Isaac asks quietly, his eyes fixed on Lydia’s. She smiles at him, honestly and kindly. 

‘Pack… pack means family.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try and post a new chapter every couple of weeks. I know it's a longish wait, but I've got a busy few weeks and then I'm back to uni, so I'd rather give myself a little breathing space rather than say I'll update weekly and forget or whatever. 
> 
> But yeah, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! More Isaac next chapter, as well as a birthday and all kinds of pack fun.


	3. It never stops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isaac settles into the pack. Derek's birthday is celebrated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes a turn for the silly. Be warned.

Isaac takes the bite. Nobody is surprised.  


What _is_ surprising though is how quickly he gets himself under control. Pretty much everyone had expected him to be like Scott and Jackson – easily angered and easily out of control – because he’s a teenage boy; full of testosterone and other exciting hormones, not to mention the added factor of his troubled past. However, he proves them all wrong by remaining remarkably calm throughout his first couple of weeks as a wolf, as well his first full moon, which comes only a few days after he’s bitten. True, he’s kind of cocky about the whole thing and is more than a little bit insufferable for a while, but that’s squashed pretty quickly, one way or another. The pack is made up of strong characters – it doesn’t take much to make sure that he’s aware of _exactly_ how unwanted his arrogance is.  


Isaac takes to lycanthropy well though, even finding an anchor for his first full moon. Derek locks him in one of the panic rooms in the basement just in case, leaving Lydia with him for company. When Derek comes upstairs again, his face is set and his jaw tight. Stiles frowns at him, concerned.  


‘What is it?’ he asks. Derek says nothing and shakes his head, disappearing out of the house for the rest of the night. It takes a couple of days before he tells Stiles – in strict confidence – that Isaac’s anchor is his father. His face twists in confusion, like he’s looking at a puzzle without all the pieces.  


‘He said that his father didn’t always hurt him – that they used to be a very happy family, and his father was a good man. But I still don’t understand how he can just ignore all the things that man did to him’, Derek says, his voice thick with emotion. ‘How, Stiles? How?’  


Stiles says nothing, and wraps his arms tighter around Derek, offering comfort without words. He doesn’t say that some people are just like that – that some people are blessed with the ability to find the good in things – in _people_ – no matter what. He knows it will sound like an accusation to Derek, for whom the memories of Kate Argent and the loss of his family still rears their ugly head from time to time, even now. Derek will probably never understand Isaac’s anchor being his father, unfortunately.  


For his own part, Stiles has various thoughts on Isaac’s anchor, a fair few which relate directly to Lydia. This is because in another surprise move, Lydia and Isaac have become very close. It’s not sexual, that much is obvious; if anything, Lydia seems to have taken on something of a maternal role. She looks out for Isaac, keeping a close eye on him at school, chastising him when he slips up and rewarding him when he does well. It’s even become common to find them curled up together on a sofa in the den, Isaac’s head resting in Lydia’s lap, her fingers combing through his long hair. Once or twice, Stiles has actually caught Lydia _reading_ to Isaac.  


And ok, maybe Stiles is a little jealous, because Isaac lives at _his_ house and _he’s_ the one who looked after Isaac those first few awkward weeks after the accident. This carries on until Derek reminds him that actually, all the ‘pups’ belong to the Alpha – but that everyone knows they belong to Stiles too. ‘Besides, Isaac needs a mentor, and Lydia’s a good person for that. It’s a good learning curve for both of them – remember how things were with Scott when he was first bitten?’ Derek says. Stiles nods grimly, remembering all too well. Derek nods at him. ‘See? Isaac needs this. And they’re still yours’, he adds. ‘They’ll always be yours, no matter what.’  


Stiles doesn’t look at that statement too closely, because now is not the time or place to talk about the future. But he does feel much better after that.

* * *

Isaac aside, there’s the upcoming excitement of Derek’s birthday. He’ll be turning twenty-four on the 8th of November and Stiles has been planning a party since about May, with lots of help from Lydia and Allison. It’s not that they’re planning something huge as such, but as it’s Derek, everything has to be done carefully and specifically.  
In the end they figure that the best thing to do would be something small and intimate, because even though he’s mellowed a lot, Derek is still a very private person. Family and pack are what’s most important to him though, so that’s why they decide they’ll celebrate here at home, just the pack and nobody else.  


Stiles winds up recruiting his dad to make sure that Derek is out of the house the day before. And yes, ok, the fact that his dad and Derek are kind of friends is pretty weird, but he supposes it’s better than the alternative, which involves angry sheriff father, underage teenager son and former murder suspect, as well as a _world_ of misery on all counts. So Stiles shakes off his feelings of weirdness when Derek and his dad settle in to watch a game together, then heads back to the Hale House to work on getting things ready.  


The whole pack pitches in, not least because Lydia has promised a very special kind of hell for anyone who doesn’t help. It’s not just that though – Derek is the Alpha, and that basically means that all the wolves have an innate need to please him. Stiles spends a good ten minutes laughing over the idea of them all as puppies, lining up in front of Derek for inspection, tongues lolling and tails wagging. It’s only when Lydia smacks him round the head that he gets back to work.  


It’s going to be a pretty simple affair all told, but that doesn’t mean they’re not making an effort. The house is cleaned from top to toe and then decorated tastefully – _oh_ so tastefully, because Lydia is like some kind of interior design expert. Her only allowance to the less tasteful members of the pack (i.e. _everyone_ ) is the horribly, horribly tacky and definitely awesome birthday banner which she lets them hang in the foyer, ready for Derek’s return. There’s also the small matter of the cake, which she and Stiles argue fiercely over; she only gives way when Stiles threatens to put Nair in her shampoo. Still, everything else is the epitome of good taste and Lydia-ness.  


All that remains when they’re done is for Stiles to go home and whine at his dad until he orders take out. Derek is under strict, _strict_ instructions not to go anywhere near the house until tomorrow morning, which means he’s staying at the Stilinski house overnight. The Sheriff makes no complaints, but does go out of his way to mention the fact that Stiles is only seventeen more than once.  


‘Oh my god, Dad’, Stiles moans eventually. ‘We get it, ok? No grown-up slumber parties! Everyone keeping to their own beds! No naughty time with underage teenage boys.’ He buries his face in his hands. ‘I might actually die of embarrassment. I mean, seriously – do you think that’s possible? Because I totally think it’s possible right now.’  


His father shoots him a look that says clearly says being a sarcastic little shit isn’t doing his cause any good. Derek seems to be smothering a laugh, but that’s because he’s a gigantic traitor who doesn’t realise that he’s so not getting any birthday orgasms if he misbehaves. And Stiles would tell him this, but it might be a little awkward given their current topic of conversation. Instead he huffs and sulks until the food arrives, at which point all unhappiness is abandoned in favour of making sure his dad eats healthily and _devouring_ Chinese food.

* * *

The next morning, Stiles gets up early and starts making the biggest, best breakfast known to mankind. There are waffles and pancakes, sausages and bacon, two kinds of eggs, beans, hash browns, tomatoes, cereal, yoghurt, fruit and three kinds of juice. It takes him the better part of an hour, but it’s totally worth it because when he’s done, he’s got a feast fit for royalty on the kitchen table.  


Then he goes upstairs with a cup of black coffee (Derek is so cliché that it hurts sometimes) and wakes his big, scary, wolfy boyfriend up with a birthday kiss.  


‘You have morning breath’, he says, his mouth turning into a moue of disgust as he pulls away.  


‘That’s because it’s the morning’, Derek mumbles, still half-asleep and sniffing the air like he’s a dog. ‘Is that coffee?’  


‘Yes, that’s coffee’, Stiles says with a sigh. ‘Go on, have at it. I know you don’t love me nearly as much.’  


‘True’, Derek says with a grin, before taking a sip of coffee and groaning happily. ‘God that’s good.’ Stiles sniffs at him.  


‘See if I give you your birthday present later’, he says snidely.  


‘That better not be a euphemism’, his father says from the doorway, making Stiles jump about fifty feet. Derek’s reflexes are the only thing that keeps the coffee from going _everywhere_.  


 _‘Dad!’_ Stiles says, scandalised. ‘Please never say anything like that again! And please don’t sneak up on me – I already have enough ninja creepers in my life as it is.’ He narrows his eyes at Derek, who cheerfully ignores him and continues his love affair with his cup of coffee.  


The Sheriff sniffs the air. ‘Is that bacon?’ he asks, looking hopeful. Stiles glares at him.  


‘You are allowed _two_ pieces’, he says. ‘Only two. And believe me, I will know if you’ve eaten more – I counted the rashers earlier.’  


His dad mutters something that sounds like, ‘Killjoy’, under his breath and heads downstairs. Stiles turns his attention back to Derek, who is still drinking coffee like it’s nectar from Mount Olympus. He sighs, mentally questioning his taste in men. Werewolves. Whatever.  


‘Come on birthday boy’, Stiles says wearily. ‘Feeding time.’  


And really, it says a lot about his life choices that Derek looks up instantly, wide awake and alert.

* * *

After breakfast and a lazy couple of hours, they head back to the house, where everyone is waiting inside the foyer with party poppers and confetti and _party hats_ , which is awesome and totally unexpected, even for Stiles. Derek looks torn between confusion and constipation, so Stiles assumes that he’s struggling to process everything and takes the opportunity to stick a golden party hat on the Alpha’s head, sitting at a jaunty angle. He has to stifle a laugh at the juxtaposition between the hat and Derek’s expression (which has rapidly resolved itself into a combination of slight mistrust and long-suffering), and it’s so comical that he quickly snaps a picture. Then he sends a copy to Lydia, just in case Derek mages to get hold of his phone at a later date.  


‘Cheer up’, he tells Derek brightly. ‘It’s going to get better!’  


True, Derek’s impression of better probably doesn’t include spending the rest of the morning playing party games, but that’s because he’s a giant Sourwolf and has no concept of fun. Stiles, on the other hand, is well aware of how awesome party games are, which is why he organised them in the first place. And if nothing else, it’s totally worth it for the expressions on Scott and Jackson’s faces when they don’t get anything in pass-the-parcel. Sulky teenage werewolves in party hats are a special kind of funny.  


What is less funny is when Lydia and Jackson start fighting over who was closer on ‘Pin the tail on the donkey’, and actually end up drawing blood when their fight degenerates from verbal to physical. Admittedly it’s only a few scratches on Jackson’s arms, but the fact remains that party games have ended in physical violence and Isaac is now cowering in the corner of the room, whimpering and looking pitiful.  


‘Oh my _god_ ’, Stiles says exasperatedly. ‘It’s like being friends with children – large, violent _children_.’ Allison smothers a giggle at that and Stiles raises an eyebrow at her to let her know that he _saw that_ and he is _not impressed_ with her behaviour right now. The trouble is, this only seems to make her giggle harder, and now Danny’s in on it too. Hell, even Derek seems to be suffering from the kind of lip-spasm that means he finds something funny but is far too much of a manly man to show it. Stiles glares at them all. This calls for desperate measures.  


‘Right, that’s it’, he says loudly. ‘Until everyone calms down and shuts the fuck up, nobody is getting any cake.’  


Silence reigns, everyone freezing in place. Stiles feels a certain sense of pride at his totally awesome parenting skills, then fixes everyone with a glare. ‘I mean it’, he says. ‘No cake unless everyone behaves.’  


Lydia turns wide, pleading eyes on him. ‘But _Stiles_ , it’s Derek’s birthday’, she says. ‘We can’t not have cake!’ Stiles gives her a _look_.  


‘Oh yeah?’ he says. ‘Just watch me.’ Lydia looks at him, horrified. Everyone else looks similarly aghast. Stiles allows himself another moment of inner celebration before putting on his best ‘I am your mother and you _will_ listen to me, so help me God, or I will send you to bed without any supper’ tone of voice.  


‘Lydia, apologise to Jackson for clawing at him. And Jackson, apologise to Lydia for not being a gentleman and letting her win graciously. Then the pair of you are going to apologise to Isaac for giving him PTSD or whatever, and after that you’re going to apologise to Derek for fighting on his birthday.’ He turns his gaze on to everyone else. ‘And as for you lot, I expect better behaviour than this. You know that is not how we behave in this house.’ He pauses, looking at them all expectantly. ‘Well?’  


What follows is simultaneously the funniest and most pathetic scene in the history of the world. Lydia and Jackson sulkily apologise to one another, then Lydia snaps at Jackson when he doesn’t apologise ‘sincerely’ enough to Isaac. Derek is clearly hiding a smile when they say sorry to him, but sobers up when he catches Stiles glaring at him. Stiles himself is then the receiver of various mumbles excuses and apologies, the group lining up like sad children in front of him. By the time it’s finally over, he’s struggling to contain his laughter.  


‘Ok then’, he says when everyone is done. ‘Who wants some lunch?’

* * *

Lunch is as tricky as any meal ever is, with everyone bickering and stealing each other’s food. Even Danny and Allison – who, by rights, should be acting like the human beings that they are – seem to have been infected by wolfish mischief, throwing bits of food around and generally being hugely obnoxious. Stiles keeps them in check up to a point, but Derek seems pretty amused by everything that’s going on, so he doesn’t try _too_ hard.  


After lunch they all slump in the den, curling around and on top of one another, watching movie after movie until it’s time for tea and cake. Stiles recruits Lydia and Allison to help him light the candles, then proudly takes the cake through to the dining room and presents it to Derek. His face (upon seeing the giant My Little Pony cake Stiles has had made for him) is priceless. Stiles regrets nothing.  


Still, appearance aside, the cake is widely regarded as delicious and definitely just what hungry little (and big) werewolves need to keep themselves full between lunch and dinner. It’s also the perfect way to segue into present opening, which is a _world_ away from the awkward affair that was Derek’s birthday the year previous. For starters, this year everyone has got him a present each, as opposed to the way Lydia, Jackson and Scott had all clubbed together to give Derek a sweater which turned out to be too small, while Stiles had ended up just giving Derek a box of cookies. Yep, this year is definitely an improvement.  


Admittedly it’s not perfect – Scott gives Derek a couple of Xbox games, clearly forgetting the fact that they don’t have an Xbox, and Jackson goes for a box of chocolates because he’s uninventive – but Stiles never expected perfection. He knows his friends (and wow, yeah, a year ago he wasn’t calling anyone but Scott ‘friend’) well enough by now to know that, for the most part, they’re idiots. Derek is also aware of this fact; it’s actually something that they bonded over in the first place.  


Still, the Alpha seems pretty pleased. He sits at the head of the table, watching everyone fondly and with a mild sort of disbelief, like he can’t believe that he’s _here_ with people and presents and a pack of his own. Stiles finds it both endearing and saddening. However, he knows that there’s a time and a place for being melancholy and this is not it. So he puts on a smile and lets the contentment in the air seep into him, filling him up with warmth. Besides, it is fun watching Derek open Danny’s present (edible underwear), his face working furiously between shock, horror, curiosity, a flicker of something that might be arousal, and what is most definitely a blush. Danny sits and smirks. Derek gapes like a fish and finally manages to say thank you. Stiles laughs and laughs and laughs, along with pretty much everyone else.  


He’s not laughing when Derek gets to his present though. Actually, it’s his and Allison’s present, because they worked on it together after Stiles gave in and admitted he had no idea what he was doing, but nonetheless, Stiles is apprehensive as Derek carefully pulls off the paper. He holds his breath as Derek takes in the smooth leather cover, blankly green except for the shining gold triskele in the centre. He bites his lip as Derek opens the front cover and takes in the photos inside. Derek looks up Allison, then at him.  


‘Where did you find these?’ he asks softly.  


‘When I was researching, I found a bunch of old photo albums in the cellar’, Stiles replies. ‘A lot of the photos were damaged by smoke from the fire, or by damp, but I took out all the ones that were ok and then Allison labelled them and put them into the album for you.’ He pauses. ‘The damaged ones are in a box in the attic – I didn’t throw them away or anything. I just thought you might want to be able to look at the good ones.’  


‘And it’s not just old photos’, Allison pipes up. ‘Skip forward a few pages.’  


Derek does as he’s told and inhales sharply. Stiles knows instinctively that he’s looking at the picture Lydia had taken the morning after Junior Prom. He and Derek are curled up on the sofa after breakfast. He’s smiling at Derek fondly, and Derek has his eyes squeezed shut, his mouth grinning widely as he laughs at something Stiles has just said. Neither of them knew Lydia had taken the photo, but when Stiles saw it, he knew it had to go in the album.  


‘There’s more’, he says gently. ‘But you can look at them later if you want.’ In fact, there are round ten or fifteen more pages of the pack over the year, from their beginnings all the way through decorating the house, to prom and summer vacation, right the way through to Lydia’s birthday and Isaac’s initiation into the pack. After that, there’s a little over half the album left bare – the implication is that Derek can fill it up with memories from years to come. Allison used this as her justification as to why they’d bought the _most_ expensive album in the shop; she’d said it would all be worth it when Derek could get another five years’ worth of moments in. Now, Stiles is glad that he listened to her, especially when Derek looks up at them both, his eyes a little brighter than usual, a look of wonder on his face.  


‘Thank you’, he says, his voice sounding a little thicker than usual. ‘It’s… it’s perfect.’  


Stiles feels his chest fill up with warmth and a wide smile stretches across his face. Then, before Derek starts crying or Jackson makes a comment about how having feelings is ‘totally gay’, he says, ‘So, does anyone want more cake?’  


As anticipated, this distracts everyone for at _least_ the next twenty minutes.

* * *

When it gets to about six o’clock, Stiles starts to slowly but surely usher everyone out of the house and towards their respective homes. Admittedly it’s hard, because they’re all hyped on sugar and acting like six year olds, but eventually he’s alone with Derek. They migrate to the kitchen, and Stiles sets about cooking dinner for them both. It’s mainly just leftovers from lunch in a new incarnation, but as neither of them is very hungry, that works out just fine. They don’t talk much as they eat, but that’s fine too.  
Stiles is doing the dishes when Derek says, ‘I really appreciate this – all of it.’ Stiles glances over his shoulder and gives Derek a reassuring smile.  


‘I know’, he says. ‘And I’m glad – everyone put a lot of work into today. They wanted to show you how much they care.’ Then he wrinkles his nose. ‘Ok, that was kind of sappy, sorry. But you know what I mean.’  


Derek smiles, standing up and walking over to press a kiss to the nape of Stiles’ neck, his hands sliding into place on Stiles’ hips like they belong there. ‘Leave the dishes until tomorrow’, he says. Stiles nods, the first spark of arousal lighting in his veins.  


‘Yeah, ok.’  


From there, they head upstairs. They trade lazy kisses on the stairs, hands reaching out to touch each other, constantly in contact with one another. It’s easy; unhurriedly. It still sets Stiles’ pulse racing, heat flowing through his veins like lava. He lets Derek undress strip off his shirt and Henley, the pace languid. His own hands creep up under Derek’s shirt, nails running lightly down Derek’s back, eliciting a shiver from the Alpha. Their mouths meet, slow and insistent. They pull apart, and Stiles manages to divest Derek of his shirt before he’s being pushed back on to the bed.  


They make out, long and messy, hands trailing over skin. Derek bites a mark into the place where Stiles’ neck meets his shoulder. Stiles gasps and arches into him, hands gripping Derek’s back, nails biting into his skin. Derek’s eyes flicker red. His hands move to Stiles’ fly, working the zipper. Stiles bites back a moan and shakes his head.  


‘No’, he says. ‘No, don’t. There’s something I want to try.’  


And before he can chicken out, Stiles pushes Derek on to his back, straddles his thighs and undoes his jeans, tugging them down and out of the way, along with Derek’s briefs. Derek gets the message and kicks his jeans and underwear off, giving Stiles a moment to just look at what he’s got laid out in front of him. And sure, it’s not the first time he’s seen Derek naked, but it’s not a sight he sees a lot, so he lets his gaze linger; lets his hands reach out and skim across hard abs and hipbones, down to Derek’s erection, which he fists loosely. Derek makes a sound somewhere between a gasp and a groan; the noise goes straight to Stiles’ groin and he has to take a moment to shut his eyes, bite his lip and get himself under control.  


When he opens his eyes again, he looks up at Derek. ‘Tell me if I do something you don’t like’, he says quietly. Then before he manages to talk himself out of it – because he’s never done this before and he’s more than a little afraid he’s going to fuck it up – he leans forward and puts his lips around the head of Derek’s cock.  


The noise Derek makes should be illegal, it’s that good. Stiles likes that noise – he likes it a _lot_ – and he decides that he wants to hear it again. And again, and again. So he opens his mouth, takes Derek in a little deeper and goes to work. Apparently it’s good, because Stiles gets his wish; Derek is full on _moaning_ , one hand trying to get a grip in Stiles’ too short hair, the other fisting in the sheets.  


Of course, Stiles’ technique is far from perfect, but he makes up for that with plenty of enthusiasm. Either way, he seems to do the trick for Derek, because it’s not so very long before the Alpha’s gasping out Stiles’ name, body stiffening as his hips stutter and he comes in Stiles’ mouth. Stiles swallows, because there’s not much else he can do, and the idea of spitting just seems _weird_. Then, when he’s sure Derek’s done, he pulls off with a smirk, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth.  


‘Happy birthday’, he says, because he can be a real asshole when he wants to be. Derek rolls his eyes, laughs breathlessly and hauls Stiles up the bed to kiss him senseless, completely ignoring all Stiles’ protests about the need for mouthwash or at least drink of water. Later, Derek flips Stiles over, presses him into the bed and proves that he knows exactly how to give a blow job. Stiles would definitely feel inferior if it weren’t for the fact that he’s pretty sure his brain is going to be offline for roughly the next twelve hours.  


 _All in all_ , he thinks as he drifts off to sleep, _it’s been a pretty amazing day_.

* * *

In typical fashion, just as it looks like things might be settling down, there’s an incident in gym a couple of days later. They’re climbing the rock wall (which Stiles _loves_ , because he’s pretty awesome at it) and Scott and Allison are being capital-s-slow, probably because they seem to be having some deep and meaningful couple-related conversation about halfway up the wall. Apparently it wasn’t _that_ meaningful though, because it ends with Scott clearly making use of his superior strength to beat Allison to the top, and Allison retaliating by kicking him off the wall. It’s pretty funny.  


Stiles is up next though, so he doesn’t focus on Scott’s humiliation for long. He’s up the wall in no time at all – hyperactivity and trees were often combined in his childhood – but when he gets down to the ground, nobody’s noticed that Stiles is actually a monkey in disguise. He would be mad, except for the fact they're all focussed on the girl who is less than halfway up the wall, having a panic attack.  


Coach Finstock is as strange as usual, but he does finally manage to get the girl – Erica – to come down from the wall. He sends her back to the girls’ locker room to get changed, with Allison going too in order make sure that she’s ok. Apparently Coach has no idea that Erica's an epileptic and it's pretty obvious that he's freaking out about it now, worried that she's going to have a seizure and hurt herself on his watch.  


When Stiles thinks about it, he realises it that she must be Erica Reyes, daughter of Jake Reyes, the main insurance guy in Beacon Hills. She’s also the girl who some douchebag filmed having a seizure in class. Stiles hasn’t seen the video because he’s not big on ritual humiliation (he’s suffered through it enough to know how little fun it is) but he’s heard it’s pretty bad.  


Even so, Erica probably wouldn't have crossed his mind again if Scott hadn't sprinted out of the locker room like there’s a house on fire, mid-way though getting changed. Stiles shares a glance with Danny and Jackson, the three of them heading out after Scott seconds later. They find him back in the gym, rolling Erica on to her side under Allison’s direction. Apparently she tried to climb the wall again and had a seizure. Stiles watches her jerking around on the floor and feels deeply sorry for her. He can’t imagine how much it must suck to be in her situation.  


Apparently, neither can Scott, because at the next pack meeting, Derek looks around the table seriously and says, ‘I have something that we all need to discuss. Scott has brought to my attention that there’s a girl at your school called Erica Reyes who’s an epileptic. He also thinks that I should give her the bite.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Debating the Erica issue, and the consequences of the discussion.


	4. the thorn in your paw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Erica causes more problems within the pack than anyone would have imagined.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may be a little OOC in parts. Sorry for that :s This chapter was a difficult one/fought me a lot.

Stiles is fake-casually leaning against a wall when she walks past. He reaches out to grab her arm and she jumps, looking at him in surprise. He forces a smile on to his face. 

‘Hey Erica, can I talk to you for a minute?’ He jerks his head towards the empty classroom across the hallway, still smiling. She looks bewildered, but nods and follows him inside. 

He shuts the door carefully behind them, nods at Derek and says, ‘Show’s all yours, boss man.’ Derek rolls his eyes for a brief instant, then turns to Erica, a smile stretching across his face. It’s seductive; fake. It gives Stiles the creeps. Erica seems a little confused, but unlike Stiles, she doesn’t see the smile as anything other than genuine. 

Stiles sort of tunes out Derek’s little speech about how ‘the bite is a gift’ and how it will make her harder, better, faster, stronger. Admittedly Derek doesn’t _actually_ quote a Kanye song, but it’s a near thing. Besides, Stiles really would rather not pay close attention to the fact that his boyfriend is basically seducing an underage teenage girl into becoming a werewolf. He closes his eyes and sighs quietly, thinking back to the start of all this. 

* * *

‘I have something that we all need to discuss. Scott has brought to my attention that there’s a girl at your school called Erica Reyes who’s an epileptic. He also thinks that I should give her the bite.’ 

As soon as the words are out of Derek’s mouth, there’s a beat of silence and then the room practically _explodes_ into sound, voices clamouring to be heard over one another, blending into one angry cloud of noise. Stiles can hardly hear what Isaac and Allison are saying, let alone anyone who’s sitting more than one seat away from him. Eventually, he gives up trying to say anything and just looks at Derek, who raises an eyebrow in turn. 

‘ _Enough_ ’, the Alpha growls a moment or two later. Mercifully, everyone falls silent. Derek glares at all of them. ‘As I said before, we are going to _discuss_ this – we can’t do that if none of you will shut up long enough to listen to each other.’ His mouth tightens. ‘Ok. Lydia? Would you like to go first?’ 

Lydia ignores the sulky looks from the rest of the table and gives Derek a smile. ‘Thank you’, she says, because she’s a suck up of the highest order when she wants to be. She takes a breath. ‘I don’t think we should give Erica the bite.’ Scott opens his mouth to protest and she shuts him down with a glare. ‘Look, I get that she’s sick and that sucks for her, it really does, but it’s not our responsibility, right?’ She looks to Derek briefly. ‘I mean, I thought packs are meant to stay _out_ of human business.’ 

‘ _You’re_ human, in case you forgot’, Allison says sharply. Lydia gives her a look that is part confusion, part hurt. 

‘No, I’m not’, she replies after a beat. ‘I mean, I’m part human, but I’m not _just_ human any more. I’m wolf too, and I’m pack. This isn’t pack responsibility – it’s not werewolf business.’ 

Allison sucks in a breath at that, her eyes full of pain. ‘Are you saying that pack isn’t a human thing?’ she asks. 

‘Whoa, ok kids, let’s slow down for a minute’, Stiles says quickly, before things take a turn for the vicious. ‘How about we focus on the issue in hand?’ 

‘Thank you Stiles’, Derek says, giving him a grateful look. ‘And although Lydia’s views on pack are not entirely correct, she’s right about one thing – Erica’s sickness is not our concern. However, as a nominated candidate for the bite, Erica herself _is_ our business, for the time being anyway. Now, does anyone else want to say anything?’ 

‘We’re not running a charity for unfortunate kids’, Jackson chimes in. ‘I don’t see why we should give her the bite just because she’s sick.’ 

Scott frowns at that. ‘We helped Isaac.’ 

‘Isaac’s different’, Jackson says, just as Lydia starts to protest. ‘We were already looking out for him, and it’s partly our fault – _my_ fault – that he ended up in the position he’s in. Besides, Isaac doesn’t have anyone else; Erica has a family of her own. She doesn’t need us.’ He looks at Isaac, his eyes soft. ‘I hope you don’t take offense to that, dude. I just meant…’ 

Isaac nods quietly. ‘I know’, he says with a shrug. ‘It’s cool. Anyway, you’re right – you guys are the only family I have now.’ 

Stiles glances at him and asks, ‘How do _you_ feel about giving Erica the bite?’ Isaac looks thoughtful. 

‘Well, I know I haven’t been part of the pack for very long, so I don’t really feel like I have much right to comment’, he says slowly. ‘But I guess… well, you guys took me in and made me feel like a part of something worthwhile for the first time in longer than I can remember. You’ve given me friends – and a family too. And you’ve made me strong; made me so that I never have to worry about being able to take care of myself again.’ He pauses, frowning. ‘So I think if we can help Erica, we should. You all gave me a chance. I think she should be given that chance too.’ 

Stiles nods. ‘Ok, so that’s two in favour, two against.’ He looks up the table. ‘Danny? Thoughts?’ 

Danny twists his mouth up wryly. ‘I’m with Isaac on this one’, he says. ‘As unpopular as that might be. I’m not saying I think we should help every sob story who comes into our path – like Jackson says, we’re not running a charity here – but Erica… her life sucks. We can fix that.’ 

Allison nods. ‘Danny’s right.’ Then she sighs. ‘Look, my parents aren’t stupid. They know that Isaac’s part of the pack – or at the least, they know we’re planning to recruit him. They’ll definitely figure out things with Erica if we give her the bite, and that’s going to make things difficult for the pack in the future. But if we can talk to them – maybe draw up a treaty, or something – I think it’ll be ok. And I think Erica deserves a chance at a normal life, it we can give her that. I think it’s worth a little trouble.’ 

‘Thank you’, Derek says seriously. Then he looks down the table. ‘What about you Stiles?’ 

Stiles shrugs. ‘I think I’ll stay out of this one’, he replies. 

‘That’s bullshit Stilinski’, Jackson says, just as Scott says, ‘What, Stiles, come on!’ 

Stiles rolls his eyes, kissing his chance of keeping out of the crossfire goodbye. ‘Jesus, fine’, he snaps. ‘I don’t think we should give her the bite, ok? We’re probably in trouble with the Argents for turning Isaac as it is – it’s not like we’ve ever taken the time to draw up a treaty or even _consult_ them about our movements as a pack, and I’m pretty sure that was a mistake. Making Erica part of the pack is just another increase of our strength and an increased likelihood of us causing trouble in their eyes; it’s not going to go down well. Plus, our pack is relatively young and unstable already. Adding yet another newly-made wolf to the ranks is tempting fate if you ask me.’ Silence meets his words. Then Derek nods. ‘Ok.’ ‘Ok what?’ Lydia says sharply. ‘Ok you’ll do it or ok you won’t?’ 

‘Ok, I’ve heard what everyone has to say and I’ll think it over’, Derek returns, equally sharply. He looks sternly around the table. ‘I think we’re done here.’ 

And for the time being, that’s that. 

* * *

Derek lifts a hand and brushes back Erica’s messy fringe, his smile still in place. Her eyes are wide and full of disbelief, but Stiles can see her responding on some level. After all, although she’s quite pretty really, what with the way she dresses and the epilepsy, she’s probably never had attention like this before. And it’s _Derek_. Of course she’s responding. 

God, you’d probably have to be blind, deaf and mute not to respond to Derek. Or dead or something. 

It still makes Stiles deeply uncomfortable. Then again, it’s not like he’s even on board with this anyway. 

He sighs quietly, looking at his hands and wondering how much longer this will go on for. 

* * *

It’s a week before Derek makes his decision, and during that time tensions run high. Everyone is on the outs with _someone_ in the group, with the exception of Isaac – and that’s mainly because his opinion is entirely understandable, given his experiences. Plus picking a fight with Isaac is pretty much like kicking a puppy on a scale of one to really mean. Still, he and Derek are literally the only people who aren’t arguing with anyone. 

The battle lines are largely predictable, and at their simplest come down to for and against. What is unusual is the way that the divisions have fallen. For example, Danny and Jackson are actually seemingly ok, having agreed to disagree, or possibly having come to some mutual understanding/middle point. But Scott isn’t speaking to Lydia, Jackson _or_ Stiles, except when he wants to tell them how confused and disappointed he is by their viewpoints. Stiles is honestly a little sick of it, although not quite as sick as he is of hearing Lydia bitch about her on-going fight with Allison. Admittedly, that has more to do with Lydia’s comments about pack rather than their opinions about Erica, but the end result is the same. 

Worst of all is the fact that Derek isn’t keeping order in the pack. True, Stiles can see why Derek refuses to get involved in any of the ‘debates’ about Erica, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t keep things from getting out of hand with a well-placed dose of Alpha command. Stiles, for all that he’s sort of right-hand-man most of the time, cannot keep the pack under control the way that Derek can. 

Eventually though, they’re all put out of their misery. 

‘I’m giving her the bite’, Derek announces. ‘Not only will it offer Erica a chance at a normal life, but she’ll increase the strength of our pack, as well as giving us the added benefit of having another female wolf.’ Several people open their mouths to speak. Derek silences them all with a look. ‘This is no longer a matter for discussion. I’m your Alpha and I’ve made my decision.’ 

His words are met with disbelieving silence. It takes a few moments before people start to leave, as if no one is quite sure what’s going on. This is hardly surprising – Derek hasn’t pulled this kind of dominance trick since the early days of the pack, and it’s pretty weird to see it happening now. 

Stiles waits until the room is empty before he says anything. 

‘Why do I get the feeling this is more about what benefits _you_ than what benefits Erica?’ he asks drily. 

Derek sends him an unimpressed look. ‘Does it matter if it is? It’s not your place to question my decisions.’ And _wow_ , that stings more than Stiles thought it would. He nods slowly, chewing on his lip. 

‘Ok. Fine. Forgive me for wanting to know whether your motivations were actually more than just some power trip’, he says at last. ‘Let me know when you’re done being an egocentric asshole drunk on Alpha juice and we’ll talk.’ Derek’s head snaps up at that and his eyes are tinged with red. Stiles raises his eyebrows. ‘Oh, I’m sorry – did you think I was just going to roll over and let this go?’ He shakes his head, laughing bitterly. ‘What the hell is going on? You’ve been acting weird all week, letting everyone tear at each other’s throats over Erica without a word to keep us in line. Is something happening that we don’t know about? Are you keeping something from the pack? Because if there isn’t, I’m going to need an explanation as to what the _fuck_ you think you’re doing.’ 

For a brief moment after he’s done speaking, Stiles thinks that maybe he’s gone too far; maybe he’s crossed the line. Derek’s eyes are violently red, his claws out; he looks like he’s about half a second from throwing Stiles into a wall – and not in a good way. He’s also growling, low and threatening. For the first time in a _long_ time, Stiles feels… he feels _afraid_ , his heartbeat skittering in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he doubted that Derek wouldn’t hurt him, but he’s doubting it now. 

‘Shit, I’m sorry’, Derek says suddenly, red bleeding out of his irises and claws retracting as he comes towards Stiles slowly; carefully. He reaches out a tentative hand to cup Stiles’ cheek, thumb moving in slow circles against Stiles’ skin. ‘I’m sorry’, he says again. ‘I didn’t… I wouldn’t hurt you. I would never hurt you.’ 

Stiles shuts his eyes, scared that if he doesn’t, he might do something awful like start to cry. He can’t say anything, his breath catching in his throat, his pulse still racing. He tries to breathe deeply, but it hitches and stutters. He bites his lip. 

_‘Fuck’_ , Derek says, low and pained. ‘God, I’m so sorry.’ Stiles feels him step closer and shakes his head. 

‘I – I don’t think I can do this right now’, he manages to say. ‘I just… I need a little time, ok?’ He opens his eyes, vision a little blurry. ‘But if there’s something going on… I need you to tell me now.’ 

Derek nods, his expression filled with regret and concern. 

‘Stiles… the Argents aren’t the only threat we face. For starters, there are hunters out there who are much less honourable than them – hunters more like Kate. And there are other things too; other packs who could cause trouble.’ He pauses, frowning. ‘I know we haven’t had any trouble in a long time, but news travels slowly through the shifter community – mainly because there aren’t many of us around.’ He sighs. ‘Look, I don’t _know_ if there’s something coming. All I have is an instinct telling me that just because things have been peaceful lately, it doesn’t mean they’re going to stay that way.’ 

‘So this _is_ about the pack’, Stiles says. Derek shrugs. 

‘Scott, Jackson, and Lydia are strong and getting stronger every day. They’re not enough on their own though. And Isaac, although he’s got great control and the markings of an excellent beta… he’s so new to this.’ The Alpha shakes his head, something like desperation in his eyes. ‘I need more wolves in the pack if we have any chance of surviving if something else does turn up. I _need_ Erica. And I need you to trust me on this.’ 

Stiles thinks for a minute. ‘That’s not much of an explanation’, he says slowly. 

Derek nods, looking much older than twenty-four. ‘I know. And I know things haven’t exactly been smooth sailing lately. But like I said, I need you to trust me.’ He looks at Stiles, his gaze almost pleading. ‘I need your support Stiles. Please?’ 

It’s the ‘please’ that does Stiles in. Despite the niggling sense of unease in his gut, he nods. ‘Ok’, he says with a sigh. ‘Ok. Tell me what you need and I’ll do what I can to help.’ He looks up at Derek, making sure that his emotions are written plain on his face. ‘But not today.’ He shakes his head. ‘This… this wasn’t ok. I know I shouldn’t have said some of the things I said, but I can’t – I can’t do this if I think you’re going to lash out at me when you don’t like how things are going.’ 

Derek makes a noise that sounds like he’s been punched in the gut. ‘Stiles, I’m -’ 

‘Sorry, yeah, I know’, Stiles says, his chest tight. ‘I know. And at some point we’re going to sit down and have a chat about this whole thing. But I can’t do that right now. Not today.’ He brings a hand up to cover the one of Derek’s against his cheek. Just for a moment, he leans into the touch, letting his eyes close. Then he pulls away. ‘I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk, ok?’ 

And before Derek can say anything to make him stay, he walks out of the room and goes home. 

* * *

Just over a week later, Stiles is acting as bait and luring Erica into a deserted classroom at the end of school so that Derek can give her his sales pitch. Absently, he wonders if Derek can smell his discomfort; the seduction of Erica Reyes aside, this is the first time he and Derek have been alone together since ‘the incident’. They haven’t yet spoken about it.

‘Take the weekend to think about it’, Derek is saying. ‘If you have any questions… Stiles or any of the other pack members can help you out.’ 

‘Pack members?’ Erica asks. She looks at Stiles. ‘Is that like everyone who you sit with at lunch?’ 

Stiles nods. ‘Yeah. Me, Scott, Allison, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Isaac.’ 

Erica’s eyes go wide. ‘You’re all… y’know, _werewolves_?’ Stiles shakes his head. 

‘No. That doesn’t mean we can’t all answer your questions though, if you have any.’ He looks at Derek. ‘Are we done? I have history homework to do and dinner to make.’ 

Derek frowns at him, but says nothing. ‘Yes, we’re done.’ He turns his attention to Erica. ‘Just let one of the pack know when you have an answer. And I probably don’t need to tell you this, but you cannot mention a word of this to anyone else.’ 

Erica laughs at that. ‘Who would believe me?’ she says, grabbing her bag and heading out of the door. 

Derek and Stiles stand in silence for a minute or two after she’s gone. ‘Do you think she’ll take the bite?’ Derek asks finally. Stiles nods. 

‘Yeah. Even if wasn’t going to cure the epilepsy, did you see the way she looked when she realised who was in the pack? The rise in social status alone would have hooked her.’ He frowns. ‘Derek, I know you don’t want to hear this, but I think this is a bad idea. I don’t think her motivations for taking the bite are good and we have _no_ idea if she’ll make a good addition to the pack – it’s not like any of us know her beyond saying hi in the hallway once or twice.’ 

‘Allison says she’s nice’, Derek says quietly. 

Stiles rolls his eyes. ‘Allison thinks pretty much _everyone_ is nice.’ He pauses. ‘Speaking of… has she said anything to you about the fight between her and Lydia? Because I don’t know if you noticed, but things aren’t exactly getting any better between those two, and it’s making life pretty difficult right now.’ 

Derek frowns. ‘She’s mentioned that they’re not getting along, but I thought it was about Erica – and it’s not like that’s an issue anymore.’ 

‘I swear to god, sometimes you are dumber than a bag of hammers’, Stiles says with a sigh. ‘It’s not about Erica. It’s _about_ the comments Lydia made about pack. And much as I’d love to step up to the plate and fix this one myself, there’s only so much I can do here. Besides, Allison talks to you about this kind of stuff, not me. So yeah, you need to fix this.’ 

There’s a beat, and then Derek asks, ‘That’s not the only thing I need to fix.’ He turns to Stiles. ‘You never gave me any chance to talk about what happened last week.’ 

Stiles shrugs, scuffing the linoleum floor with the toe of his converse. ‘Honestly, I still don’t know if I’m ready to talk about it’, he admits. He takes a deep breath. ‘Derek, I haven’t been afraid of you since… God, since back when all this started. I literally cannot remember the last time I even _considered_ that you were going to hurt me before this happened. And that freaks me out.’ He shakes his head. ‘I just don’t understand – your control is impeccable normally, which says to me that either you’re not feeling very in control lately, or that you chose to do that. Neither of those options is particularly inspiring. Also, just for the record, I’d really rather not have to stand here and watch you flirt with someone right in front of me.’ 

‘Stiles, it was just a way to get her on board. It doesn’t mean anything.’ 

‘I know. That doesn’t mean I have to like it.’ Stiles doesn’t add, _It doesn’t mean I like the implications behind it_ , but he thinks it. 

Derek sighs. ‘I’m not saying that you do. I just wanted to make sure you know where we stand. And as for what happened before… I didn’t mean to do that. What with trying to decide what to do about Erica, everyone fighting, and trying to work out what the Argents are going to do if I continue to expand the pack… I had a lot on my mind. It’s not an excuse, and I know that. It’s just the truth.’ 

Stiles bites his lip, then nods. ‘Ok.’ 

‘Ok?’ 

Stiles nods again. ‘Yeah, ok. I understand. You’ve got a lot on your plate lately and if it was anyone else, they’d have gone all wolf-crazy _long_ before now.’ He glances at Derek, then looks at the floor. ‘It doesn’t mean I’m over what happened though. I, uh… I’m going to need some time, ok? I can’t just go back to trusting you like I did before.’ 

‘I understand’, Derek says quietly. ‘And I think it’s a good idea – I’m going to have to work for this.’ 

Stiles splutters and looks up. ‘Dude, I’m not some fair maiden who you need to ‘prove’ yourself or whatever. This is just a hopefully temporary rough patch.’ 

‘Stiles, I _want_ to prove myself’, Derek says, and shit, he’s doing the earnest face that always makes Stiles feel like he’s talking to a particularly loyal puppy. ‘I did this. I need to fix it.’ And Stiles would argue, but he’s tired, and the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight. 

‘Fine’, he says. ‘But you need to fix Allison and Lydia first.’ Then he drops a brief kiss on to Derek’s lips and leaves. 

* * *

In the days before Erica gives them her decision, Stiles winds up acting as one half of the peace-keeping forces overseeing Allison and Lydia’s make-up talks. It’s more than a little stressful and really should have been taken care of long before this point, but after stamping down on the nasty little remarks and comebacks they keep throwing at one another, establishing just exactly what the definition of pack is (and the relevance/role of human pack members) things finally seem to settle down. It takes the better part of a day all told, spread out across the weekend – because too long in that room with the pair of them is enough to make Stiles want to throw himself out of a window – but finally, _finally_ they both apologise and forgive each other. 

Stiles has never been so relieved in his life to see Lydia and Allison on good terms again. The expression on Derek’s face says something similar. It comforts Stiles more than it should – they’re not on a break as such, but there’s a distance between them that’s never been there before. It’s hard. Stiles knows that it’s the best way though. When he thinks about just carrying on like nothing had happened… his chest gets tight and his breath starts to get short and panicky. So yeah, it’s weird and Stiles is suffering from _serious_ blue balls, but it’s the best way. 

He doesn’t let himself catch Derek’s eye as they all head out of the dining room at the end of the ‘peace talks’. Instead he pays attention to the girls. 

‘Us girls have to stick together anyhow’, Lydia says, her arm wrapped around Allison’s waist. ‘It’s the two of us against all you boys – united we stand etcetera.’ 

‘You’ll have another female pack mate soon, if Stiles is right’, Derek says. ‘I hope you’ll include her in your ‘girls together’ group.’ 

Lydia pauses for a brief second. Then, ‘Sure we will’, she says sweetly. ‘Right, Allison?’ 

‘Sure’, Allison agrees. Stiles notes their facial expressions and files them away for later – if this doesn’t spell trouble down the road, he doesn’t know what does. And he does look at Derek then, but Derek doesn’t seem to have noticed, so Stiles looks away and keeps his thoughts to himself. Still, he can’t shake a sense that bringing Erica into the pack is going to be a very bad idea. 

* * *

On Monday, during Econ, Stiles finds a note on his desk. It’s from Erica. It reads, ‘I’m in.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't wait to share the next chapter/parts with you all! Hope you liked this :)
> 
> (and sorry for another cliffhanger)


	5. Conflict/Resolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the pack problems continue - but in some cases get resolved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I rewrote/restarted this chapter at LEAST four times during the writing process, so it's very much a labour of love and also a massive relief that it's FINALLY done.
> 
> But anyway, I decided that I just couldn't wait to share it with you, so I'm updating a week early. I hope you like it!

After school, Stiles meets Erica in the same classroom as before. They work out a plan and then Stiles heads to lacrosse practice. The next day, Erica isn’t at school – apparently her mom called in to say that she’s sick. Stiles knows the truth though, and he literally cannot focus for more than five minutes at a time. He knows exactly where Erica really is, and he can’t keep himself from wondering just how far along she is in the transformation process. 

At lunch, the whole pack is on edge, eating in silence – with the exception of Lydia and Jackson sniping at each other, which is pretty much just business as usual. Once school is done, they all go straight back to the Hale House, regardless of any after school commitments or parents. When they pull up outside the house, Derek is standing on the porch waiting for them. Stiles’ stomach tightens then relaxes as Derek – who’s wearing a hint of a grin – says: 

‘The bite took. She’s fine.’ He jerks his head. ‘Come inside. I want you all to say hello. 

Erica is sitting in the den, watching tv. Stiles casts his eye over her critically. To his surprise, she actually looks pretty much the same as before the bite, except that her skin’s clearer and she isn’t curled in on herself as much as Stiles remembers. She smiles shyly at them all. 

‘Hi’, she says. ‘It’s nice to meet you all properly.’ She gets up, rubbing her palms on her sweat pants. Stiles wonders if her hands are sweaty – Erica looks pretty nervous. She smiles again, a little more wryly this time. ‘Sorry, I’m kind of nervous. It’s just… god, you guys are like _royalty_ at school. This is sort of overwhelming.’ 

It’s Allison who breaks first, naturally. ‘We’re just the same as everyone else, I promise’, she says with a sweet smile. ‘Except for the whole werewolf thing, that is.’ 

‘We like to call it, “our little furry problem”’, Danny says with a grin. ‘Well, except for Lydia, that is.’ 

‘I don’t think it’s unreasonable not to want to sound like I’m hirsute’, Lydia snaps, cracking out the SAT words with the same casual ease as ever. ‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’ 

‘That means hairy, right?’ Isaac asks. Lydia beams her approval at him, while Scott looks at him with wide eyes. 

‘ _That’s_ what it means? I thought it was like some weird word for, you know, _periods_.’ 

Cue everyone either staring at Scott in disbelief or bursting out laughing. Stiles falls into the latter category, and actually has to be helped into a chair because he’s so out of breath. It’s a good few minutes before he’s able to speak. 

He’s wiping his eyes as he says to Erica, ‘Well, that’s as good a pack welcome as you’re going to get. It’s all going to go downhill from here.’ Erica’s eyes go wide at that. Allison is quick to reassure her. 

‘Stiles is just teasing. I promise it’s not that bad.’ She bites her lip. ‘Although…’ 

‘Although this definitely won’t be the last time Scott says something dumber than pig shit’, Jackson finishes, as tactful as ever. ‘That’s basically what Allison’s not saying.’ Allison shoots him a glare, which rolls right off him _as usual_ – Jackson’s skin is thicker than a rhino’s at least ninety-eight percent of the time. 

‘Jackson, you didn’t know that a cougar and a mountain lion were the same thing’, Lydia says sharply. ‘I’m pretty sure you’re in no position to call anyone dumber than pig shit.’ 

‘Danny didn’t know either!’ Jackson says indignantly, but not at all surprisingly – he’s still almost always willing to drag other people down with him, despite all his other improvements. 

But Danny just raises his eyebrows and says, ‘Leave me out of this’, at which point Jackson and Lydia devolve into one of their little bitch fights. As the fights occur roughly three or four times a week, nobody really pays any attention. Erica is the exception though, and she watches them with something like fear on her face. Stiles pats her shoulder reassuringly. 

‘Don’t worry about them – this is just their way of expressing their love for one another. Besides, Lydia’s the only one you actually _should_ be scared of.’ 

‘I heard that Stiles!’ 

‘See?’ He grins at Erica. ‘I know what I’m talking about.’ He levers himself out of the chair he’s sitting in with a groan, moves over to the couch and elbows Erica in the thigh. 

‘What’re we watching?’ 

She chews her lip and sits down next to him. ‘Umm, Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Is that ok?’ 

‘Definitely!’ Stiles tells her. ‘Everyone loves Buffy! Well, except for Derek maybe, but then he’s old and grumpy, so that’s only to be expected.’ He flashes Derek a grin, who, predictably, is looking like Stiles is the bane of his existence. ‘You know I tremble in fear of your mighty Alpha roar, right?’ 

Danny chuckles. ‘Stiles, you don’t tremble in fear of anything. Well, except maybe getting caught with your pants down by your dad, but that’s only cause you think he might arrest your boyfriend.’ 

‘That was cruel’, Stiles says, pouting. ‘I’m wounded. Like, deeply.’ Danny smacks him round the head, just this side of affectionate. 

‘Whatever. Give me the remote.’ 

And unfortunately, all Stiles’ shouts of, ‘Bullying!’, and, ‘Abuse!’, are wilfully ignored after that in favour of Sarah Michelle Gellar kicking ass. It’s a tough life. 

* * *

Erica’s first week as a werewolf goes better than expected, given how _totally_ different her initiation into all things werewolf was compared to Isaac’s. Admittedly her control is a little spotty and there are a couple of moments very reminiscent of Scott and Jackson’s early days, but overall she does pretty well. She also starts to fit into the pack surprisingly quickly, even though they actually have to _persuade_ her to sit with them the day after she gets the bite. She’s silent for the first day, just sitting there, eating her lunch and fidgeting with her t-shirt. (She’s wearing them with jeans, and it’s an enormous improvement on baggy sweatshirts and sweat pants, but it’s still not great. Stiles sees a shopping trip in her near future.) She does start to join in a little bit the next day though, adding the odd comment here and there. And by the third day, she’s actively participating in conversations, even if quietly and still hesitantly. Stiles actually thinks that come Monday morning, once she’s got through the full moon, Erica might actually hold a full-blown conversation. 

The weekend throws up an interesting – and almost entirely unanticipated – problem though, in the form of Erica’s crush on Derek. Really, Stiles knows he should have seen it coming, what with Derek’s fairly seductive sales-pitch and Erica’s clearly chronically low self-esteem. Of course, none of this is helped by the fact that she spends her first full moon with Derek, as he doesn’t think Jackson or Scott are suitable mentors and obviously none of the humans can stay with Erica until she’s learned to control herself. Still, Stiles can’t help wishing that Derek had just let Lydia do it. He _knows_ it wouldn’t be fair to give Lydia yet another newly-bitten beta to look after, but he’s pretty sure she could handle it (who is he kidding – of course she could) and it would at least mean Erica wouldn’t be staring at Derek like he hung the stars in the sky. 

Everyone knows only Stiles is allowed to look at Derek like that. 

Stiles has to admit though, crush on Derek aside (which seems pretty harmless if he’s being honest) everything Erica-related is generally ok. Actually, if he’s truthful, she seems like a pretty cool girl. 

That is, everything Erica-related is generally ok _before_ the day she waltzes into the school cafeteria with a skirt so short that it’s borderline indecent and lipstick so red that it sort of makes Stiles’ eyes hurt. Lydia actually looks shocked as she stares at Erica and asks, 

‘ _What_ the holy hell is _that_?’ 

Allison looks deeply unhappy. ‘I took her shopping yesterday’, she admits. ‘But I did _not_ see her buy those clothes. Well, except maybe the vest top.’ 

‘Derek gave her the leather jacket’, Stiles adds, eyes still glued to Erica as she sashays over to their table. ‘He gave Isaac one too, remember?’ He gives Erica an awkward smile as she slides into the seat next to him. ‘ _Hey_ Erica…that’s a, uh, new look you’re rocking.’ 

Erica grins at him, all white teeth and predatory intent. ‘You like it?’ she asks. Stiles feels his eyebrows disappear into his hair and scrambles for something to say. 

‘It’s very attention grabbing’, he manages eventually. ‘You’re hard to miss.’ 

Erica’s grin widens, which really shouldn’t be possible. ‘Great’, she says. ‘That’s what I was aiming for.’ And then she _winks_. 

Stiles spends the rest of lunch pretty much in shock, and from the looks of things he’s not the only one. Jackson and Danny are staring at Erica in what looks like horrified fascination – as opposed to the rest of the cafeteria, who are watching her in rapt astonishment. Scott, on the other hand, is purposefully looking anywhere _but_ Erica, which Stiles can see is starting to annoy Allison. He makes a mental note to try harder to educate Scott in the ways of subtlety. 

Then Erica starts eating an apple and it’s like the whole world stops. Lydia stares at her so intently that Stiles is kind of surprised that Erica is still breathing and doesn’t have a giant hole burned through her middle. Isaac, on the other hand, practically has his jaw on the table and is wearing the slightly pained expression of someone who’s got a sudden, vicious hard-on. Stiles is deeply sympathetic – hell, even _he’s_ not immune to Erica’s apple eating antics (ha, he’d like to see anyone say that fast). In fact, the only reason he’s not in the same position as Isaac (i.e. sporting the kind of boner that _will not die_ ) is because he has a Derek. And Derek, as anyone with eyes can tell you, has the advantage of being significantly hotter than pretty much everyone ever (possibly even the sun). 

Also, Erica’s wearing leopard print shoes. Stiles has always found leopard print a real turn off, although he has no idea why. 

He’s more than a little confused by Erica’s sudden transition from shrinking violet to tiger lily though, because there was no sign of it coming. Sure, there’s the obvious if somewhat slow increase in confidence that she’s being undergoing since she got the bite, and she really _did_ need some new clothes, but it’s not exactly like anyone was expecting her to pull such a complete one-eighty. 

And on top of this, there’s the fact that all of a sudden, Erica and Lydia start tip-toeing round one another like a pair of angry cats, which makes _no_ sense at all given that they seemed to get on just fine before. Still, whatever the reasoning behind it is, it’s certainly no good for the pack, which is showing signs of starting to become divided again. Stiles even asks Derek if he knows what’s going on. Derek shrugs. 

‘I can think of a few things’, he says after a moment or two. ‘Nothing for sure though.’ His mouth twists unhappily. ‘I’d step in if I thought I could fix this as their Alpha, but if I don’t know what the problem is, I could do more damage than good.’ He sighs and shrugs again. ‘I think the best we can do is let them work it out for themselves.’ 

Unfortunately, this isn’t the answer Stiles is looking for. Of course he trusts Derek’s judgement; it’s just that he doesn’t think that the pack can handle much more disruption so soon after the last lot of drama. So he tries a different tack. 

‘What is going on with you and Erica anyway?’ he asks Lydia one day during Econ, where he’s pretty sure the most she can do is stab him in the leg with a pencil. ‘I mean, you guys seemed to be getting on just fine. Has something happened since then? Did she steal a pair of your shoes? Did you cut off a large chunk of her hair? You know, like in that Paramore song with the unrealistic video set in a bizarre high school.’ 

Lydia gives him a familiar look; the one which tells him that she doesn’t understand how he came to exist, but she isn’t happy with the fact that he does. He smiles and tries to look appealing. It doesn’t seem to work, given how Lydia’s look of mild disgust turns into full-blown repulsion. 

‘You’re a freak, Stiles’, she says. She scribbles something briefly in her notebook – possibly a note to poison Stiles while he sleeps, as it’s unlikely that Finstock has said anything worth repeating – and then sighs heavily. ‘It’s a dominance thing.’ 

Stiles waits. Then he says (because he has a death wish), ‘Yes?’ 

Lydia glares at him. ‘You’re lucky I like you’, she tells him. Then she puts her pen down and turns to face him, dropping her voice down so as not to be overheard. ‘So, as you know, there’s a hierarchy in actual wolf packs – a mated pair, who hold the title of Alpha male and female, and then their offspring or relatives and occasionally the odd lone wolf. Obviously, it doesn’t work exactly like that in were packs. For starters, like in our pack and Derek’s old pack, there are quite often human members, who have their own ranks within the human members, as well as their places with the pack as a whole. Then there’s the fact it’s not uncommon for packs to have an unmated Alpha, like we do – or even a same-sex mated Alpha – because you don’t _need_ a direct bloodline to continue the pack. You follow?’ 

Stiles rolls his eyes. ‘I know most of this already Lydia. Can you get to the point already?’ And Stiles resigns himself to large amounts of pain and humiliation at a later date when Lydia stares at him like her eyes have been replaced by death rays. 

‘I don’t why I put up with you’, she hisses at him, turning away. It takes a good ten minutes of pleading, texting and paper notes to make her turn around again. A further five minutes and the promise of cookies (which are one of the very few things that Stiles _can_ cook) get her to start talking again. 

‘So anyway, even if you only have one Alpha in a pack – male or female – you still have a werewolf of the opposite sex who is the highest ranked of their gender. And in our pack, I am the equivalent of the Alpha female.’ She sighs. ‘This hasn’t been a problem before, because I’m the only wolf and Allison wouldn’t want the rank even if she could have it. But for some reason, ever since her makeover Erica seems to have developed a problem with the way things stand. It’s not a big deal from a human perspective, but my wolf… she won’t submit to me and that makes me want to kill something.’ 

Stiles nods slowly. ‘So it’s a wolf thing?’ 

Lydia shrugs. ‘Pretty much.’ Stiles raises an eyebrow at his friend. 

‘Pretty much?’ 

Lydia shrugs again. ‘I’m not keen on her new attitude. I liked her better when she was less in your face. Also she’s been messing Isaac around a bit and it’s not cool, especially as Isaac’s mine.’ 

‘Isaac is _yours_?’ Stiles asks incredulously. ‘I thought you guys weren’t – you know.’ 

‘We’re not’, Lydia says. ‘It’s a wolf thing again – everyone belongs to Derek first and foremost, but by official pack hierarchy, they belong to me next. I mean obviously in reality they belong equally to you and me, I’m just saying in wolf terms they belong to me next. And Isaac is probably the person I feel most protective of, because I stayed with him the first full moon helping him find an anchor, and we spend so much time together. I guess you could say he’s kind of like my pup.’ 

‘So Erica makes you go all Mama Bear…’ Stiles processes the thought and then nods. ‘Yeah that makes sense.’ He bites his lip, wishing he could say something comforting. He ends up just saying, ‘Well I hope everything works out between you too.’ 

Lydia nods. ‘Me too. It won’t be good for the pack if things don’t.’ She doesn’t say, ‘And that’s the last thing we need’, but Stiles knows they’re both thinking it. 

* * *

Obviously though, Stiles has plenty of other things to think about which _don’t_ involve Erica or Lydia. For starters, the end of term is drawing near, the air filled with excitement and anticipation for the holidays and Christmas. But for Stiles, it’s more than just Christmas to look forward to: it’s his birthday as well. It’s not just any old birthday either; it’s the super-significant _eighteenth_ birthday, which in almost every country (except, ironically enough, the USA) means that he’s old enough to do whatever the hell he wants. And in particular, it means that by states law in California, Stiles will finally be old enough to legally engage in sexual relations. 

In short: lots and lots of hot sex with Derek will be happening in the not-too-distant future. Stiles can hardly wait. 

But in the meantime… well, there’s the small matter of how he and Derek haven’t, ahem, _done_ anything since they agreed that physical contact of that kind probably wasn’t a good thing for the time being. And while Stiles’ head still thinks this was the right decision, other parts of him (ok, _part_ ) aren’t happy. After all, Derek is walking, talking sex on legs and Stiles is a teenage guy. It’s a pretty simple equation. 

So he decides to take matters into his own hands. 

Not literally. Although yeah, he definitely considered that option. He also discovered a previously unknown exhibitionist side of himself, because the idea of Derek walking in on him jerking off… _god_ it’s hot. 

However, as he likes to keep up the appearance of actually being capable of thinking with his brain, he puts that idea to the side (in his spank bank) and sits down to work out a plan that involves actual talking, about feelings, and definitely no naughty touching. Well, less naughty touching anyway. And only after the talking about feelings. 

A couple of days later, he puts his plan into action, shooing all the little werewolf cubs out of the house to go and be somewhere that isn’t _here_. He’s slightly worried about Isaac going over to Erica’s – Lydia isn’t at the house today, so she’s not here to glare at Isaac until he thinks better of his choices – but his priorities are not about pack today, so he lets it slide. For now. Then he makes two cups of coffee (still the clichéd black and bitter for Derek, milk and two sugars for himself – probably also a cliché really) hunts Derek down and drags him into the lounge. He sits on the sofa and points to the other end. 

‘You. Sit.’ 

Derek raises a mildly perplexed eyebrow at him. Stiles rolls his eyes. 

‘Contrary to common belief, you are not a caveman. I know this. I also know that you are capable of comprehending human speech. So sit down and drink your coffee.’ 

And Derek does as he’s told, which – as always – makes Stiles smile smugly to himself. He hides his smirk with his coffee though, because he’s not a _complete_ idiot, not matter what Lydia likes to tell him on a roughly twice-daily basis. 

They drink their coffee in a silence that is only just comfortable. It makes Stiles wonder if maybe this whole thing is a really bad idea. But he thinks about how things haven’t really _progressed_ since he and Derek had their last proper talk, and he knows that he won’t be happy until they’ve at least addressed this. So he finishes his coffee, sets the mug down on the table and turns to face his boyfriend. 

‘I think we should try and work on stuff’, he says, his openers as brilliant as ever. 

Derek gives him another raised eyebrow. ‘What “stuff”?’ he asks. He even does the air quotes, which makes Stiles actually have to hold back a laugh. 

Pulling himself together, he takes a breath and says, ‘You know, _stuff_. Like, you and me stuff.’ 

Derek raises his other eyebrow, giving him the overall impression of being mildly surprised. ‘Is that why you sent the pack away?’ 

Stiles nods. ‘Got it in one, O wise and mighty Alpha. I figured it would probably be easier to do this without everyone else around. Plus I don’t really like the idea of people listening in on us.’ 

Derek nods in return. ‘I agree’, he says. ‘So… what did you want to talk about?’ And Stiles refrains from rolling his eyes or saying snarky in order to say, 

‘I want to…discuss… this whole not-touching thing.’ 

Derek says nothing. Stiles frowns and decides to continue. ‘I know we said we’d hold off on everything except ‘chaste’ kissing – and oh my god I am still judging you for saying that – but we’re _never_ going to make anything better if we don’t talk about this and try and work towards getting things back on track.’ He sighs. ‘I’m not saying things will go back to how the way they were before because this happened and because I don’t think I could trust you if it was just like it never did. It’s just… I miss you touching me. I miss being able to kiss you properly. I miss the way it feels when you’re holding me down and making me beg. I miss making you come.’ 

And he stops there, because he suddenly realises that even though they’re in the den, which is (relatively) neutral ground and they’re on opposite ends of the sofa, his libido apparently isn’t paying any attention. After all, this is where he and Derek first kissed, and it’s not like they’ve never done anything else in here. He shuts his eyes briefly, trying to get his suddenly racing heart under control, but all he can see is a slideshow of Derek inside his eyelids, hot and sweaty and _god_ , so desirable. He bites his lip and opens his eyes. Derek is watching him. 

Stiles gets up slowly, walking to the other end of the sofa. He puts his right knee on one side of Derek’s lap, then places his left on the other, sinking down until he’s resting on Derek’s thighs. And Derek just watches him. 

Stiles bites his lip again. ‘Just… just let me?’ he says, not even really sure what he’s asking. But when Derek gives a tiny nod, Stiles nods in return, letting out a shaky breath. 

He slides a hand up Derek’s neck, thumb brushing across the older man’s cheek. Then he shuts his eyes and slowly, slowly, in the tiniest increments, he leans forwards until he’s almost kissing Derek, their lips merely millimetres apart. He hangs there for the space of several heartbeats, just breathing against Derek; feeling Derek breathe against him. And then, finally, he closes the distance between them. 

It starts out as ‘chaste’ as it’s supposed to be. There is no tongue involved, no lip-biting, no nothing. Just the press of mouths against each other. But it feels heady, like the room is full of heat and smoke and passion. It ignites a flame in Stiles that makes him press closer to Derek, tongue licking against Derek’s lips until they part. And though it stays slow, there’s something sensual and almost _primal_ about the way it continues, slick and wet and smooth and hungry, oh so hungry. Derek’s hands come to rest on the small of Stiles’ back, fingers slipping under the many layers of shirts to press Stiles closer. Stiles winds his hands into Derek’s hair and the collar of his Henley, a noise escaping him – only for it to be swallowed by Derek. 

It’s instinct more than anything else when Stiles widens his legs, rocking down into Derek, grinding against the erection that he knows is going to be there. And _fuck_ , it feels good; so good that Stiles doesn’t stop even though he knows this probably isn’t what he should be doing. God, it’s so good that he’s getting close, too many weeks not with Derek, not jerking off. From the way that Derek starts to move against him it’s obvious that he’s not alone, and apparently they’re really doing this. 

Derek pulls away briefly, lips wet and shiny and eyes wild, hips suddenly stilling. ‘Stiles, we shouldn’t’, he says, voice raspy. And Stiles nods, but he doesn’t stop. 

‘Please. Please let me’, he breathes against Derek, hips still moving. 

Derek lets him. And it’s absolutely great. 

Afterwards, they just stay there, Stiles flopped on top of Derek, face mashed into his shoulder, the scent of come and Derek’s skin filling his nose. ‘That was good’, he mumbles. ‘Like, _really_ good. And you know how much I hate dry humping normally.’ 

Derek’s chuckle is a rumble in his chest that Stiles feels buzzing through his own skin. 

And perhaps it was a little ill-advised – hell, it _definitely_ wasn’t what Stiles had planned to happen – but they talk for a while afterwards and weirdly, it feels ok. Like maybe this was something that they needed to get past – pushing past the blame and the worries and all the things that were keeping them away from each other. Sure, it’s not like everything is ok now – it’s probably not going to be ok for a while, Stiles thinks – but it’s a start. Derek let him take control. It’s a start. 

* * *

Things with Derek show definite improvement after their talk/non-talk. Admittedly, the progress isn’t always consistent and it’s a little slower than Stiles would like sometimes, but it’s progress nonetheless and that’s what’s important. Besides, as Stiles has to remind himself, he’s the one who instigated this whole thing to start with and he’s the one who still sometimes feels the odd little flicker of fear in the dark of the night. 

Aside from this though, things have changed dramatically within the pack – for the better. In a move that tales everyone (Stiles included) by surprise, Lydia and Erica get together. The story they’re going with is that they were both just working through their own issues with the idea of a relationship, which is why there’s been so much tension and aggression between them lately. Stiles isn’t sure he entirely believes this – he’s pretty sure they were both clueless right up until their bizarre little fight/argument/make-out _thing_ that jump-started the relationship. Still, he likes his balls intact and attached to his body, so he makes the wise decision not say anything to this effect. 

Anyway, the great thing about the new couple is that it not only resolves roughly ninety percent of the pack’s current problems, it also means that a) the pack is back on track for something resembling stability, b) Lydia is considerably less angry, c) Isaac no longer looks miserable all the time and d) Derek stops looking quite so worried. It’s a solid result all round. 

Thinking about it, what with his birthday and Christmas _just_ round the corner, no school for the next few weeks, and things between him and Derek getting back to something like normality, Stiles decides that he’s earned the right to feel pretty damn good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone interested in seeing how the Lydia/Erica thing went down, I've actually written a piece specifically about the two of them, which should be up tomorrow :) Keep your eyes peeled!
> 
> EDIT: The Lydia/Erica piece can now be found [HERE](http://archiveofourown.org/works/528811)
> 
> I will NOT be updating next week after this - we'll be back to the two weekly schedule now.


	6. Ye Merry Gentlemen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christmas vacation brings a lot of excitement and emotion for Stiles on any given year. This one is no exception.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really sorry I haven't updated this sooner. I fully meant to, but what with uni, going home, getting sick and hitting a really bad creative block, it just wasn't happening, hence why this update is two weeks later than it should have been.
> 
> Anyway, here it is! I hope you enjoy it :)

The start of the Christmas vacation is very, very welcome after all the drama of the last few months. Stiles hasn’t actually realised how exhausted he really is until he has the chance to sleep in every day. In fact, the day after school ends (a Wednesday) he doesn’t get up until two in the afternoon because he’s just so tired. Of course he then feels like ass for the rest of the day, but that doesn’t stop him from doing almost exactly the same thing the day after, or the day after that. 

The lie-ins are pretty epic, that’s for sure. In fact, their sheer epicness is eclipsed only by the ever-closer monster combo of birthday and Christmas, which are now both less than a fortnight away. In terms of what this means for the pack, it’s basically just Stiles being even more of a hyperactive chatterbox than usual. Still, he’s not alone in this – Scott basically just degenerates into a child at Christmas time and this year is no exception. However, Isaac also seems to have been infected by the festive spirit, as does _Jackson_ of all people, because apparently Christmas is werewolf catnip or something. It’s hilarious. It’s also annoying as hell for all those not quite as ecstatic about the up-coming big days, but hilarious too. 

Normally, Lydia would definitely be treating them all to her best scathing comments like the veritable ray of sunshine that she is. But since she and Erica got together, things have taken a turn for the unexpected. Now, she, Allison and Erica seem to spend a lot of time in each other’s rooms, occasionally appearing from time to time as one chattering, giggling entity. Stiles resolutely keeps his mind out of the gutter. 

Of course, this has absolutely nothing to do with the fact that Scott sadly told him one day that even though he’d listened in for the better part of an afternoon, he’d heard nothing that even _hinted_ at a lesbian threesome. Not a peep. It’s a tragedy of epic proportions really. 

Anyway, mostly Stiles is much too busy thinking about how _awesome_ his birthday is going to be – not least because of the (clearly fantastic) birthday sex that he’s going to be getting. Ever since the first time he and Derek had actual skin-to-skin, intentional orgasms (together that is – Stiles has had _plenty_ of intentional orgasms on his own) things have been progressing, slowly but surely. First it was handjobs and frottage – which apparently turns out to be something that Stiles is really, _really_ into – and then there was the whole birthday blowjob thing. Now it’s got to the point where (when Stiles asks nicely) Derek will stretch him open with lube-slick fingers, pushing inside him and curling his fingers against a spot that – when he finds it – makes Stiles see stars. The urge to just go all the way is pretty difficult to resist. 

And yeah, Stiles is aware that things (physically) cooled off for a bit between them after their fight. But now that they’ve had a bit of time and talked it over (although Stiles will freely admit it was more orgasms first, talk later and _entirely_ his fault) they’re started to move back into that side of things. True, they pretty much dived back into the sex aspect of it, but since then they’ve both managed to be a little more restrained and slowly but surely, Stiles can feel himself relaxing around Derek more and more. It’s not perfect by any means – sometimes he still feels that niggling sense of doubt in the back of his mind that it’s all going to go horribly wrong. Generally though, things are back to normal; or as normal as they can be. 

Besides, he’s an _almost_ eighteen year old guy with a criminally (heh) hot boyfriend and potentially mind blowing sex just around the corner. It’s not surprising that his reservations have faded into pretty much nothing. 

However, even though the sex has a lot to do with his excitement about his birthday, it’s definitely not the sole reason why he’s excited. After all, it’s his _eighteenth_. It’s a seriously big deal. In cultural, traditional terms he is going to be a man. Well. Sort of. 

Anyway, that’s so not the point. The point is, he’s almost eighteen and that’s pretty fucking awesome. In Lydia’s words, dealing with him is like dealing with a four year old who’s just been given all their Halloween candy all at once. Stiles doesn’t care though, because nobody is going to rain on his birthday parade. After all, for the first time since he was about five, he’s having a birthday party. An actual, honest-to-god birthday party, with people and everything. 

He’s practically buzzing with the excitement of it all when he wakes up on the morning of the 22nd of December, springing out of bed at six am and thundering down the stairs to make himself a cup of coffee. To his surprise – and delight, let’s be honest – he finds Lydia there, and breakfast too, complete with pancakes, sausages, bacon and even grilled tomatoes. He picks her up in a hugs, spin her around and only puts her down when she threatens to gut him, in complete disregard of his birthday boy status. Still, he’s not too worried by her threats because a) she’s smiling, so impending doom can’t be too imminent, b) not even Lydia is cruel enough to do that on his birthday, and c) there’s a whole load of breakfast to eat, and werewolves _love_ their breakfast. 

So he puts her down and tucks into breakfast, ignoring Lydia’s noises of disgust when he stuffs as much food into his mouth as physically possible. As he tells her, it’s his birthday and he’s going to do whatever the fu- the hell he wants. That is, aside from cursing in front of his dad, who’s just come downstairs looking both barely awake and so proud that it makes Stiles’ chest hurt. He swallows his enormous mouthful of food and gets up to give his dad a hug. 

‘Happy birthday son’, the Sheriff says, sounding almost choked. ‘Your mom would be so proud of you.’ And then they hug for a minute longer because Stilinski men do not really cry, but every now and again their eyes might get a little watery. 

After that it’s back to breakfast, with Lydia being as inhumanly wonderful – as usual – and making the Sheriff look slightly dazed in the face of her unholy perfection, while Stiles eyes his father’s bacon intake sharply and hides the maple syrup. All in all, as breakfasts go, it’s pretty damn awesome. Hell, it’s definitely better than Derek’s birthday breakfast. For starters, Stiles isn’t dealing with any ungrateful werewolves with morning breath who only want him for his cooking skills. 

The fact is though, it’s still only seven thirty by the time they’re done and after staying up _far_ too late the night before, Stiles feels the sudden and desperate urge to go back to sleep. Although both Lydia and the Sheriff roll their eyes, neither of them make any move to stop them. In fact, Lydia makes to follow him once she’s done loading the dishwasher – because she’s secretly an angel in disguise – only stopping when she sees the Sheriff’s face. Stiles bursts out laughing. 

‘Oh my god Dad, no. No, not even close.’ He points to himself. ‘Boyfriend, remember? Extremely hot, extremely male boyfriend.’ Then he points to Lydia. ‘And _she_ has a _girlfriend_ , who is also extremely hot but possibly even scarier than Derek. So trust me, there will be no activity of the sexual kind. Literally none at all.’ 

And with that, they head upstairs. There, Lydia climbs into Stiles’ bed with him and then lets him be big spoon, because she’s actually pretty awesome when it comes down to it. Stiles thinks – as he falls asleep – that once upon a time this would have been the most terrible kind of torment; sharing a bed with Lydia Martin in a totally platonic way. Now though? Now… it’s just kind of perfect. 

* * *

Stiles wakes up to Lydia’s finger poking him – very pokily – in the side. 

‘Wake _up_ Stiles! I’m starving. Plus Derek is getting needy and if he carries on texting me every five minutes I’m going to throw my phone against a wall, and then do the same to him when we get back to the house.’ 

‘You’re going to throw Derek against a wall?’ Stiles asks blearily, blinking slowly. 

Lydia grins, showing all her teeth. ‘That’s actually not a bad idea. But I was talking about his phone.’ 

‘Oh.’ Stiles yawns. ‘What time is it?’ 

‘One o’clock.’ 

And _that_ has Stiles sitting up straight, eyes wide open and every muscle straining. ‘ _What?_ ’ 

Lydia shrugs. ‘We didn’t have much planned for the daytime, you know that. And I talked to everyone and we figured it was a better idea to let you sleep now, instead of having you falling asleep during your own birthday party. So quit looking so indignant, get up and take a shower – you smell kind of weird right now. Oh and you might want to brush your teeth. Your breath is disgusting.’ 

The worst thing is that Stiles is so used to taking orders from Lydia, he just automatically does as he’s told. 

* * *

In the end, they wind up doing some weird kind of lunch/mid-afternoon snack/dinner hybrid _thing_ of a meal, with the entire pack squished into the kitchen and living room of the Stilinski house. Everyone turns up in one great rush, all bearing presents and cake and sparklers and various kinds of takeout, as well as generally making a massive mess, which Stiles decides he’s just going to ignore until tomorrow. And it’s silly and loud and Stiles is pretty sure that his dad thinks that his friends are part of some cult or something, but it’s also pretty much the best birthday he’s ever had. That is, with the possible exception of the dinosaur themed party he had when he was six, when his dad dressed up as the guy from Jurassic Park and his mom made him a cake in the shape of a pterodactyl. But then again, an act like that is practically impossible to follow. 

Once the food is (almost entirely) gone and the pack are sprawled all over the furniture like the slobs they are, his dad takes him into the tiny study at the back of the house that neither of them ever really use because it was Stiles’ mom’s. Then the Sheriff goes to the bookshelf that barely fits in the room and pulls out a copy of ‘The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe’ that Stiles remembers his mom reading him when he was younger. His dad opens up the cover and picks up an envelope, which he gives to Stiles. 

‘Open it son’, he says. Stiles does as he’s told, peeling back the flap of the envelope and picking out the piece of paper with shaking fingers. 

It’s a cheque. It’s a cheque, and the sum on it… well, it’s astronomical. Stiles is momentarily confused by the zeroes, thinking there must be a mistake in the sum. Then he looks up at his father, eyes wide and shocked, thoughts shuddering to a stop. 

‘What – I mean, I don’t understand. What’s it for? How… how is there so much?’ 

His father smiles sadly. ‘Well, I set the account as soon as I knew your mom was pregnant. And we made sure to put as much as we could by whenever we could. Then, after your mom died, her will stated that she wanted everything to go to me, except for her inheritance, which she wanted to go into your college fund.’ Stiles stares. ‘Mom had an inheritance?’ 

The Sheriff nods. ‘Yup. I guess if… if things had been different she’d have been around to tell you for herself once you got a little older. The fact is, her father left her mother when your mom was just a little girl. They barely heard from him after that and Sera didn’t really speak about him much, but I know she never cared for him. So when he died and left her all his money, she didn’t want to have anything to do with it. But by that time her mom was dead and as you know, she didn’t have any other relatives, so she kept it in an account. I guess she decided that she wanted something good to come of it in the end, even though she didn’t want it for herself.’ 

Stiles sits in silence for a few moments after his dad finishes speaking, digesting the new information about his mother slowly. Finally, he goes over and wraps his arms around his father, pressing his face into the familiar material of the Sheriff’s uniform, allowing a few tears to escape him. 

‘Thank you’, he mumbles wetly. ‘Just… thank you.’ 

His dad wraps his arms around him in return, squeezing him as tightly as he used to when Stiles was a little boy. ‘It’s my absolute pleasure’, he says, sounding a little hoarse. ‘You’ve made me a very proud father over the years, Stiles. It’s just great to be able give you a helping hand for the future.’ 

And then, because it’s probably the most emotional the two of them have ever been since the funeral, they just hug one another in silence. 

When they go back to everyone else, Stiles is ridiculously grateful for the fact that the pack seems to have kept their ears to themselves. 

* * *

There are more festivities and also more cake after that, until Stiles declares that it’s definitely time to go and do irresponsible things like cover someone’s house in silly string and play music obnoxiously loud all night long. So then he tightly hugs his dad goodbye, tears all the little wolves and pseudo-wolves away from the birthday cake and allows himself to be driven to the Hale House by Derek. 

When they arrive back at the house, the rest of the pack moves off into their own rooms. Derek and Stiles stay in the kitchen though, where Derek starts readying things in preparation for Stiles’ triskele tattoo. Once everything is laid out, he turns to Stiles, brushing fingers gently across the nape of Stiles’ neck and asking, 

‘So… where do you want it?’ 

Suddenly, Stiles is actually glad that everyone else has disappeared, because although he’s talked over the placement of his tattoo with Lydia and Allison (both of whom gave his choice the royal seal of approval) he’s still nervous about actually telling Derek. 

Trying to make light of the situation and set himself at ease, Stiles says, ‘That sounds the start of a really bad porn film.’ Typically, Derek raises an Eyebrow of Doom. Stiles sighs, psyching himself up. ‘I want it… I want it on my back. Between my shoulder blades.’ 

Behind him, Derek stops. Stills. More than a little worried, Stiles turns around, eyes flickering over Derek’s face, trying to get a read on his boyfriend’s emotions and failing miserably. ‘Derek, what’s the matter?’ he asks finally. 

Derek bites out, ‘You don’t want it there.’ Stiles rolls his eyes, feeling a lot more comfortable now that he knows what he’s dealing with. 

‘I thought you might say that. So why don’t you just not bother with the ‘blah blah significance blah you don’t what it means blah you don’t understand blah blah _blah_ ’, ok? Because I _do_ know what it means and I _do_ understand. I did my homework.’ 

Derek raises an incredulous eyebrow. ‘Oh yeah?’ 

Stiles raises an eyebrow right back. ‘Oh yeah. I’m not _stupid_ , Derek. I know what my position is in the pack, and I know what my position in the pack _could_ be. I also know that getting my pack tattoo in the same place as yours is a declaration of what I _want_ my position in the pack to be, and that I want _you_ to know it. Ok? This isn’t just some ‘Oh I think it’d look cool here’, shtick. I’m serious. I’ve been thinking about it ever since you first told us about pack marks and I’m sure, even with everything else that’s happened since then. I want the tattoo on my back, between my shoulder blades. So you’d better put it there, or I’ll go and get some random tattooist to do it instead.’ 

Derek stiffens. ‘Stiles -’ 

‘No. Just… just do it, ok? I’ve thought about this a lot Derek. It’s what I want.’ And because Derek is still hesitating, Stiles stands up, reaching for him and pulling him in for a kiss. He tries to put everything he’s feeling into it; tries to make Derek understand that he _wants_ this. Initially, he’s not sure that it’s working, but slowly, Derek softens under his hands, the tense lines of his shoulders flowing into something smoother. When they pull apart, both breathing heavily, Derek doesn’t look angry or scared anymore. 

‘I’ll have to make it smaller than mine’, he says quietly, tracing his fingers over Stiles’ bare back a few minutes later. 

‘Gee, really?’ Stiles says drily. ‘And here I was thinking that everyone was built like a tank, just like you.’ 

He gets a flick to the ear for that, but as banter has always been their thing, he’s not too fussed. 

A couple of hours later, he’s proudly carrying the Hale pack mark on his back, between his shoulder blades. 

As expected, it hurts like a bitch. Stiles decides to take care of this in true teenage fashion – by getting absolutely shitfaced at his birthday party which, in a move that nobody could have predicted, is being held at Jackson’s house. Also unpredicted: the fact that the entire senior and junior year seem to be there. It’s all deeply weird. But it’s cool too. Very cool, actually. 

The truly epic hangover the next day is a lot less cool, as is the distinct lack of birthday sex. Stiles is totally not counting the fact that Derek pushed him into a bedroom, shut the door with a growl, then pushed him _against_ said door and blew him until Stiles’ knees gave out. Not at all. 

But as it’s nearly Christmas and Stiles feels so very, very unwell, he decides that he’s going to be magnanimous and forgive the distinct lack of sex. Besides, even if he won’t admit it, he does like the fact that Derek defends the sexless birthday by saying he wants Stiles to actually _remember_ their first time. It’s kind of… sweet. Endearing, even. Also, it would have been super awkward if they _had_ wound up getting down to it and Stiles had passed out during… 

A distraction from sex – or the lack thereof – comes in the form of Christmas Eve. As is the tradition in the Stilinski household, it’s now time for the bare fir tree which has been sitting in the living room for the past week to be decorated. Stiles and Isaac spend a very happy afternoon getting as much tinsel and as many Christmas decorations as it’s physically possible to fit in one tree, with the end result of the tree looking like someone has fired a canon full of Christmas at it. In Stiles’ book, that’s mission accomplished. 

After that, they laze around drinking the spiced cider that the Sheriff makes each year from an old family recipe. By the time the Sheriff actually gets home from work, they’re pleasantly buzzed, lying on the couch watching old movies and throwing popcorn at each other. Unobserved as he stands in the doorway, Stiles’ dad watches them with fond amusement for a minute or two, before making his presence known to tell them to quit making a mess of the living room. Still, it’s pretty clear that he’s not actually mad because soon enough he’s sat on the couch too, a cup of cider in his hand. And not so very long after that, they’re all asleep. 

In the morning, they go to church. As he’s belting out Christmas carols with the rest of the congregation, Stiles glances over at his father and Isaac, both of whom are singing with gusto and great big grins on their faces. For the first time in a long time, Stiles doesn’t feel guilty about not going to midnight mass the way his mom always used to. He just feels…warm. Contented, even. And there’s no trace of the sting of pain that usually accompanies each Christmas spent without his mother. 

The sense of contentment continues throughout the day, which is spent eating, watching old movies on tv and letting off enough party poppers to cover the living room in streams of paper. But later, when his dad gives him the cufflinks that his mom commissioned when she was pregnant with him – complete with _all_ his initials – Stiles feels the sharp sting of loss that usually accompanies days like Christmas and Thanksgiving. He’s ridiculously glad when the rest of the pack turn up soon after, once again bearing presents – whoever said having a birthday close to Christmas was a bad thing totally lied – and bringing laughter and warmth and good cheer. It’s the perfect distraction, not least because it reminds Stiles that he has a new family now. And sure, they’ll never fill the space that his mom left when she died, but they make it a hell of a lot easy to bear. 

Stiles thinks his mom would like that. 

* * *

Later, when the sky is a velvety black and the stars are shining like tiny diamonds, Derek presses a kiss to Stiles’ temple and murmurs in his ear, ‘Shall we go?’ 

Stiles turns his head to glance over his shoulder at Derek. ‘Go where?’ he asks. Derek rolls his eyes like the sarcastic asshole that he is, but the gesture is half-hearted enough that Stiles decides not to elbow him in the ribs as payback. 

‘To the house’, Derek says. ‘Shall we go back to the house?’ He pauses as if thinking, then adds, ‘We’ve got the place to ourselves tonight.’ 

Stiles feels his eyes go wide and a twist low in his belly when he realises what Derek’s telling him. He looks up at the Alpha and knows that Derek can hear the way his heart is beating like a drum. He doesn’t say anything – doesn’t trust himself to speak – but he nods, first a little tentatively and then more firmly. 

Derek nods back, just the once. ‘Ok then’, he says. 

‘Ok then’, Stiles repeats. ‘Just let me get my coat.’ Then he gets up, heading out into the hallway to grab the grey wool coat Lydia bought him last year, which she told him he had to wear because his hoodie was a crime against fashion. As much as he hates her for preventing him from wearing the hoodie (red and much beloved, not just because of the pun potential) he has to admit the coat looks good. And on a cold night like tonight, it’s ideal for keeping out the chill. 

‘So tonight’s the night, huh?’ 

Stiles curses – he _hates_ being sneaked up on – and gets his arm stuck in his coat sleeve. Lydia grins and comes over to help him. Then she straightens his lapels, smiling almost tenderly up at him. 

‘I’m glad he makes you happy’, she says softly. ‘And you tell him that if he doesn’t treat you right, he’ll pay for it, big, bad Alpha or not.’ She stands on tiptoe and presses a kiss to Stiles’ cheek. ‘Have fun.’ 

She heads back into the living room. Stiles follows her, hugging his dad hard and saying his goodbyes to the pack. As he and Derek go into the hall, he casts a glance over his shoulder at everyone and feels his heart give a happy squeeze in his chest, because his family’s contented and that’s all he ever wanted for them. 

On the drive to the Hale House neither of them says a word. In fact, they don’t say anything as they get out of the car, or as they get inside the house. Stiles sheds his coat with shaking hands. 

‘We don’t have to do this’, Derek says gently, breaking the silence. Stiles flashes a small smile at him. 

‘I know’, he says. ‘But I want to. I’m just a little nervous, that’s all.’ 

Derek reaches out, taking his hand, wrapping their fingers together. His hands are strong and warm despite the cold, and after a moment Stiles stops shaking. Derek smiles at him. 

‘Don’t be’, he tells Stiles. ‘There’s nothing to be scared of, I promise.’ Then he pulls Stiles into him and kisses him. It’s tender, sweet even. ‘I promise’, Derek says again. 

And when Stiles says, ‘I believe you’, he means it. Then he lets Derek lead him up the stairs like the blushing virgin he is, along familiar corridors to a familiar door. And when Derek pushes him down on to the big double bed in the centre of the room, kissing him like they have all the time in the world, he doesn’t feel scared anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try working on a bi-weekly schedule like before, but I make no promises I'm afraid, so the next chapter will just turn up as and when. I'm really, really sorry for the delays, and I hope you can understand.
> 
> The accompanying Derek/Stiles PWP piece for this chapter should be up in the next week or so. I'll put a link in here when it's done.


	7. birthday/Boyd/blackmail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get better. Then they get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, sorry, CRAZY interval since I last posted. What with one thing and another, this has been a while in the making/waiting to get put up here. My biggest apologies.
> 
> Anyway, I just wanted to say an ENORMOUS thank you to everyone who's supporting this fic and the PHENOMENAL number of people who are subscribed. I'm literally speechless!
> 
> I really hope you all enjoy this <3

It’s early the next morning when Stiles wakes up, slowly and lazily. He rubs his eyes open and yawns. Then he stretches languidly, sighing in contentment. Beside him Derek makes an unintelligible sound and presses his face further into his pillow, almost like he’s trying to burrow into it. Stiles chuckles softly, rolling over to press a kiss to one of Derek’s ridiculously muscled shoulder blades. 

‘It’s ok, you don’t have to get up’, he says. ‘I just want a cup of coffee.’ Pulling himself into a sitting position, he gets up and grabs a pair of sweatpants, tugging them on before he heads downstairs. It sounds like the house is still empty. Stiles is grateful for the peace and quiet as he shuffles around the kitchen making himself a cup of coffee. When it’s done, he leans against the breakfast island, coffee cup warming his hands as he stares out of the window at the frosty world outside. He’s still there when he hears Derek come down. 

‘You know, I thought I’d feel different’, he says without turning around. ‘I know it’s stupid and super cliché, but I honestly thought I would.’ 

The sound of the coffee pot being filled with water fills the kitchen, then abruptly shuts off. ‘Is that a bad thing?’ Derek asks. Stiles shrugs, still staring out of the window. 

‘I don’t think so? I mean, I’m not sure what I expected to feel like other than “different”, so I can’t really tell if I’m missing out.’ 

The switch clicks behind him and the coffee maker’s whirring starts. ‘Do you regret it?’ Derek asks quietly. 

Now Stiles does look over his shoulder. ‘Of course not’, he says sharply. ‘Why the hell would I? It was great.’ 

Derek frowns and walks round to Stiles. He looks him up and down, then reaches out tentatively to touch an indigo bruise just above Stiles’ hipbone. ‘I hurt you’, he says. Stiles rolls his eyes. Hard. 

‘Derek, your back looks like someone set a bunch of angry cats loose at you. You aren’t allowed to get all sad and guilty about a couple of bruises. Besides…’ He bites his lip, then continues. ‘Besides, I like it. I like seeing your marks on me. I like thinking about how you left them there.’ 

Derek raises an eyebrow. ‘Oh yeah?’ 

Stiles nods and swallows, his throat suddenly going dry. ‘Yeah’, he says hoarsely. ‘Really, really yeah.’ 

Derek’s fingers trace over the bruise again. ‘Huh.’ Then his fingers ghost over Stiles’ abdomen, the muscles jumping in time with the rhythm of Stiles’ rapidly-beating heart. And _then_ , Derek drops to his knees and blows Stiles up against the kitchen counter. His fingers dig into Stiles’ hips hard enough to leave even more marks. 

It’s a great start to the day. 

* * *

The pack comes over just before lunch. Stiles spends the rest of the day eating, lying around, and ignoring the constant, loud complaints from the rest of the pack about how the whole house _reeks_ of sex. He thinks he should probably be annoyed or something – the tense set of Derek’s eyebrows suggest that _he_ is – but really, he just finds the whole thing hilarious. In fact, he actively goes out of his way to mentally scar Scott. He only stops when Allison shoots him an unimpressed look and Lydia says, 

‘Quit it, Stiles. If I wanted to know about your sex life I’d have put a webcam in Derek’s room. Also, Scott looks like he’s about three seconds from puking everywhere and you know I can’t stand the smell of vomit.’ And that’s enough to make Stiles shut up, because Lydia on her own is perfectly capable of causing vast amounts of pain, but the Lydia/Allison combination… well, it’s just deadly. 

Apparently turning eighteen has imbued Stiles with a new (previously non-existent) sense of self-preservation. This may or may not be directly linked to the awesome sex he’s now having. Who knew? 

Anyway, once everyone has got over the Stiles/Derek sex-fest, the next few days pass comfortably slowly. The Sheriff goes back to work the day after Boxing Day, leaving Stiles free to spend most of his time with the pack and Derek. On one hand, not seeing his dad much over Christmas kind of sucks. On the other it means Stiles can do pretty much whatever he wants. And _that_ means he can spend the full moon at the Hale House, just in case things get difficult. 

In a surprising turn of events though, the full moon goes very well. Isaac is as calm as ever and now that Erica’s all loved-up with Lydia, her control is pretty much iron-clad. Aside from a small scuffle during werewolf play time (over a rabbit of all things), the night goes without a hitch. They all fall asleep in the den, curled up together like they’re actually puppies or something. 

As is now the norm, everyone splinters off into little groups the next day. Allison and Scott go for a walk in the woods like the sappy romantics they are, Erica and Lydia go shopping, and Danny, Jackson and Isaac go off to work on their lacrosse skills. Stiles would call them all pathetically predictable if he wasn’t just as bad – _his_ day is spent at home with Derek. 

‘We’re doing something for New Year’s, right?’ he asks the alpha that afternoon, between trading lazy kisses. Derek shrugs. 

‘I don’t know. Maybe.’ 

Stiles gives him a sharp look, rising up on to his elbow at that. ‘Dude, we _have_ to do something.’ 

Derek frowns at him. 'Why?’ Stiles gapes. 

‘Why? _Why?_ ’ He blinks, genuinely confused. ‘Because it’s _New Year’s_! You know, when we celebrate all the good stuff that happened this year and get totally wasted waiting to start the next one. Also, in case you forgot it’s Danny’s birthday on the first, so it’s not like we’re not going to be drinking ourselves into comas anyway.’ He stares at Derek. ‘How are you not seeing this?’ Derek shrugs again. 

‘New Year was never really a big thing with my family’, he says eventually. And all at once, Stiles is caught in one of those moments where he feels like he’s holding a ticking bomb. 

‘Well’, he says slowly. ‘I suppose that makes sense. I mean, you _were_ raised by wolves.’ 

Derek stares at him for a second. Then he bursts out laughing, and the tight worry in Stiles’ chest eases. He leans over for a kiss and Derek smiles against his lips. 

‘I guess we could do something for New Year’, he murmurs into the corner of Stiles’ mouth, and Stiles makes a quiet noise of agreement. 

‘It’s not like we don’t have anything to celebrate’, he says. And then – much to his happiness – Derek does away with words in favour of making out like there’s no tomorrow. 

* * *

In the end the pack doesn’t make any solid plans for New Year’s. Not that it matters – they were obviously going to spend it together anyway. They all just sort of wind up drifting into the Hale House at some point during the evening, carrying food and drinks and presents. Then they drink and dance and scream about how much they love each other when the ball drops and the clock chimes twelve. And _then_ it’s Danny’s birthday, so the party carries on all night, mainly because they’ve got no reason to stop. 

In fact, the only reason anyone sleeps is because people start dropping where they stand. When they wake up again – _late_ in afternoon – they spend the rest of New Year’s Day recovering. Almost without fail, everyone has a hangover. So they sprawl in the den all day, fighting over the remote, eating junk food and arguing fondly. Danny gets his tattoo (on his left bicep) while technically still drunk. 

It’s all pretty awesome, truth be told. 

Going back to school a few days later is a lot less awesome, not least because the Sheriff lays down some pretty strict ground rules about what Stiles can and can’t do on weeknights. But for all his complaining, Stiles is well aware that it could be a lot worse. After all, he’s not battling psychotic, murderous werewolves called Peter Hale this year. Besides, it’s only six months until all this is over anyway. In the grand scheme of things that’s nothing. 

Of course, Stiles’ new-found positive outlook only lasts about a week. Sure, senior year is almost halfway done. That doesn’t stop Stiles from feeling like it’s stretching out into eternity though, especially with the insane amount of homework he’s getting. And he’s definitely not the only one feeling the strain, if the short tempers and angry mutterings of the pack are anything to go by. 

Typically, this is when the Powers That Be decide to throw something new into the mix. You know, just for the hell of it. It starts like this… 

‘Hey, Stilinski!’ 

Stiles stops, turns, and does a double-take when he sees that it’s _Boyd_ trying to get his attention. Then he heads over to where the other boy is sitting. Why? Because even if Stiles is friends with werewolves, Boyd is a towering six-three and built like a tank. 

He sits down a little awkwardly, his old habit of flailing reappearing because he’s nervous. He throws Boyd a half-smile-grimace- _thing_ and asks, ‘So, uh, Boyd, what d’you want?’ 

Boyd looks at him, face impassive. ‘I want to be part of your pack’, he says after a moment or two of uncomfortable silence. Stiles inhales the mouthful of sandwich he’s just eaten. 

He spends a good minute trying not to die. By the time he’s managed to start breathing normally again, Boyd is still staring at him impassively. Cue more awkward silence. 

Then Stiles says, ‘What the hell is a pack?’ Because, hey, it’s worth a shot right? 

The look on Boyd’s face says he shouldn’t have even tried. 

‘Your _pack_ , Stilinski. Don’t pretend like you don’t exactly what I mean.’ 

‘What _do_ you mean?’ Stiles asks, just because he’s curious. Boyd looks like he’d be rolling his eyes if he could be bothered. 

‘Look, just because the most of this school are so dense they could bend light doesn’t mean that everyone’s completely failed to notice what’s going on. I have _ears_. And you and McCall have literally no idea how to whisper. I know about werewolves. I know you’re practically in charge of the werewolf pack. So quit playing dumb. I want in your pack.’ 

Stiles nods slowly, brain processing this information at lightning speed. Not for the first time, he wishes he had werewolf senses on his side. ‘Well I guess me and Scott weren’t exactly the most subtle about it at the start’, he admits after a minute. ‘But what makes you think there’s a pack?’ 

Boyd almost rolls his eyes again. ‘Your sudden rise in popularity for one thing – you and Scott were only tolerated before, and only because of Allison. Now you eat dinner with Martin, Whittemore and Mahealani every day and nobody bats an eyelid. And they all get twitchy if you’re not there, like you’re this important piece of a puzzle.’ He pauses, as if unsure whether to continue. After a second, he does. ‘Also, Lahey and Reyes were nobodies until a couple of months ago. Then they started hanging out with you guys at school and going out into the woods with Derek Hale. There’s a pack.’ 

‘You know, I had no idea you could actually talk’, Stiles says by way of a diversionary tactic while his mind races. ‘I mean, this is pretty much the most words I’ve heard you say _ever_.’ Boyd gives him a look and he holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture. ‘Ok, ok, so you know about the werewolves and the pack. But I’ve gotta ask – _why_ do you want in? Cause most people would run screaming if they knew what you know.’ 

Boyd shrugs. ‘I just wanna not eat lunch alone every day’, he says slowly, and there’s the barest tinge of sadness in his voice that wasn’t there before. It makes Stiles stop for a second; makes him think. And it’s true: he’s never seen Boyd eating with anyone, let alone interacting with anyone. Boyd is Boyd – strong and silent and always on his own. 

‘Ok’, Stiles says eventually. ‘You do realise I can’t do this for you though right? Like, even if I was allowed to, I can’t.’ 

‘I’ll tell everyone’, Boyd says immediately. ‘I’ll tell the Argents everything I know.’ 

Stiles jerks backwards, taken by surprise. Then he holds up his hands in a pacifying gesture. ‘Take it easy there, dude! I didn’t mean it won’t happen, I just meant that it can’t be _me_ who does it – I don’t have the necessary exciting mutations.’ He shakes his head. ‘No need to crack out the blackmail, man. Just let me talk to the others and we’ll work something out, alright?’ 

Boyd nods. ‘Alright. But I’m not gonna wait around forever.’ Then he turns back to his lunch, as clear a dismissal as any Stiles has had. 

‘I guess I’ll see you around’, Stiles mutters, picking up his lunch tray and heading over to his normal table. Everyone looks at him questioningly. 

‘What was _that_ about?’ Allison asks. Stiles shakes his head. 

'I’ll explain later’, he says, suddenly feeling very tired. ‘Let’s just… let’s just get today over with first.’ And his tiredness must show on his face or something, because nobody pushes him to answer. 

* * *

‘I mean, I don’t think we have much of a choice here’, Stiles says once he’s finished explaining what Boyd said to him. ‘If we don’t give him the bite, he could put everyone at risk.’ He looks apologetically at Allison. ‘Sorry. I know your parents have cut us a lot of slack lately.’ 

Allison shakes her head. ‘No, don’t apologise. You’re right. The thing is, right now they only know that Erica and Isaac are recent editions to the pack. They don’t know for certain who’s taken the bite and who hasn’t. If they had Boyd’s information, I’m pretty sure they’d feel like they _had_ to follow it up.’ She sighs deeply, pushing a hand through her hair. ‘You do realise that this puts us in danger either way though, right? Cause if they even so much as suspect anyone else has been turned, I don’t know if this truce is going to last.’ 

‘Is there any way we could make him forget what he knows?’ Danny asks. ‘Like a spell or something?’ 

Derek raises his eyebrows and looks at Stiles. ‘What do you think? Is it worth asking Deaton?’ 

Stiles thinks for a minute or two, then shakes his head. ‘I don’t think so. For starters, he probably doesn’t have a ‘spell’, let alone one specific enough to only remove parts of Boyd’s memory. It’d be some kind of herb if anything, and even if he does have something like that, I don’t think he’d give it to us.’ 

Jackson scowls. ‘Why not?’ 

‘Well, I could be wrong, but I don’t think Dr D supports stuff like that’, Stiles replies. ‘It’s meddling with someone’s mind for our own personal gain, even if it’s so nobody gets killed. I’m pretty sure he’s not on board for that kind of thing.’ 

Scott nods. ‘He likes helping people, but only if it’s not at a cost to others. Stiles is right – he wouldn’t help us wipe Boyd’s memory, specially not if it was just blanket amnesia.’ 

‘My parents wouldn’t like it either, if they found out’, Allison adds. ‘They’d see it as the pack causing harm and they’d have no choice about coming after us.’ 

‘Boyd’s not a bad guy’, Erica says suddenly. ‘He was never mean to me like everyone else.’ Everyone looks at her and she ducks her head with a shyness they haven’t seen in a while. ‘I’m not saying it’s ok that he’s basically blackmailing us. I’m just saying he’s ok as a person. And I think maybe being in the pack would be good for him.’ 

‘Erica’s right’, Stiles says, remembering the way Boyd’s eyes had lingered on the crowded cafeteria tables with something like longing. ‘He seems pretty lonely. Maybe this is something that he needs.’ 

‘Is that our responsibility though?’ Allison asks. ‘After all, it’s not like there’s anything wrong with him.’ And Stiles has a sudden sense of déjà vu, thinking back on the pack discussing Isaac and Erica. He remembers how heated things got the last time they debated giving someone new the bite. Mentally, he sends up a pray that things aren’t going to get out of hand the way they did last time. 

As if he can read minds, Derek chooses that moment to fix them all with a stern look. ‘We’re not going to fight about this’, he says. ‘I’m not having the pack tear itself to pieces again.’ He frowns. ‘Take the rest of today and tomorrow, think over what we know and make up your minds. We’ll vote on it then, ok? Now go and do your homework or something.’ 

Stiles breathes a sigh of relief as everyone gets up from the table and heads out. Then he gets up and makes his way to Derek, pressing a grateful kiss to his lips. 

‘Thank you’, he says quietly. ‘I was getting a little worried there.’ 

Derek sighs. ‘Me too.’ He strokes Stiles’ cheek tenderly, giving him a tried smile. ‘I don’t know if it’ll work though – you know what they’re like.’ 

‘I certainly do’, Stiles replies with a chuckle. He shakes his head. ‘Why the hell did your uncle think making a pack of teenage werewolves was a good idea?’ 

‘Well, he was mad’, Derek says drily. ‘He did offer _you_ the bite, after all.’ Stiles jerks, surprised by the mention of it and how lightly Derek says it. Then he frowns. 

‘He did, didn’t he?’ he says softly, thinking. ‘So why haven’t you?’ 

Derek shrugs. ‘You turned him down. I figured you didn’t want it.’ He gives Stiles an inquisitive look. ‘ _Do_ you want it?’ 

Stiles shrugs in return. ‘I don’t know’, he answers honestly. ‘I guess I’ll have to think about it sometime. Not right now though.’ 

‘Not right now’, Derek agrees. ‘But sometime.’ 

‘When things get a little calmer’, Stiles says jokingly. ‘If that ever happens.’ 

Derek smiles and nods. ‘If that ever happens, I’ll put it to Allison and Danny too.’ 

Stiles grins. ‘Look at you being all considerate and inclusive’, he teases. ‘Alpha’s all grown up!’ Derek flicks his ear affectionately. 

‘Laura would have loved you’, he says with a smile. ‘She was an asshole, just like you – she was always mocking people and cracking jokes.’ 

‘Sounds like my kind of girl’, Stiles tells him lightly. ‘It’s probably a good thing she’s not here, really. I might have gone for her instead of you.’ Derek snorts. 

‘Your dad wouldn’t have approved of the age difference.’ 

Stiles nods. ‘True. But he’d totally have ignored it if I brought home a hot girl with a college degree.’ 

Derek raises a seriously sassy eyebrow. ‘Guess I’m lucky it’s just me’, he jokes. ‘Anyway, quit procrastinating and go do that Chem homework I know you have.’ 

Stiles scowls. ‘Werewolves have no concept of privacy’, he mutters as he leaves the room. Derek’s laughter follows him out. 

* * *

The pack gathers again after school the next day. The atmosphere is both anticipatory and strained. In a moment weirdly reminiscent of his mother’s funeral, Stiles gets the strongest urge to burst out laughing at the serious looks on everyone’s faces. 

‘I don’t want any arguments about this’, Derek says as he takes his place at the head of the table. ‘So just cast your vote and say why. Nothing else. Any problems you’ve got with other peoples’ views can be settled some other time. Ok?’ He waits until everyone’s agreed before nodding decisively. ‘Good. Who wants to start?’ 

‘I will’, Allison says. She takes a deep breathe. ‘I don’t think we should give Boyd the bite. I think it’s too much of a risk; we barely know him for starters, not to mention what my parents will do if they find out. I know he has information on the pack, but I still feel like he’s less of a risk unturned.’ 

Scott nods. ‘Me too. I mean, I totally feel bad for him – it sucks not to have any friends. But I think there are better ways to get friends, and I also don’t think he knows what he’s signing up for. Plus he’s not worth bringing the Argents or any other hunters down on our heads.’ 

‘They’re going to come down on our heads eventually’, Jackson says. ‘We might as well build up our strength now, while we have the chance. And if we have a wiling volunteer, why should we pass up the opportunity? I say give him the bite.’ 

Lydia’s eyebrows shoot up. ‘We don’t even know him!’ she says sharply. ‘We have no idea if he’ll make a good addition to the pack and no guarantee that he’ll stick around even if he does get what he wants. He’s already tried to blackmail us – I think that’s a pretty clear sign against turning him. I say no.’ 

Beside Lydia, Erica shifts awkwardly in her seat, mouth twisting. ‘I think we need longer to decide. But as we don’t have longer to decide, so I’m going to say yes. I get what everyone’s saying and I understand, I really do. It’s just… you guys gave me a chance. I want to do the same for Boyd.’ 

‘I’m with Erica on this’, Isaac adds quietly. ‘And Jackson has a point too. So it’s a yes from me.’ 

‘We don’t know him’, Danny says. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, even if we could use the extra numbers if we face a threat. I’m saying no.’ 

There’s a pause, and Stiles gathers up his courage. ‘We need to explain exactly what this entails’, he says. ‘Give Boyd another chance to decide if this is what he wants. But if it is… I think we should give him what he wants. One way or another, we’ve ended up helping a lot of people. I’m not sure we can stop that now.’ He shrugs. ‘Besides, I think Boyd would be good at this. And I think it would be good for _him_.’ 

All eyes turn to Derek. ‘Ok. So that’s half in favour and half against.’ He nods slowly, as if thinking. ‘Well, it’s good to know you’ve all thought this over, and it’s great that we could talk about this without anyone losing their temper.’ He sighs. ‘I’ve already made my decision though; I’m going to give him the bite.’ He looks around, meeting everyone’s eye individually. ‘In case you’re wondering why… Jackson’s right. Sure, things with the Argents are ok right now, but that doesn’t mean they’ll stay that way. And if they don’t… we need to be able to depend ourselves. The same goes for any other threats that might come our way.’ 

‘Are we expecting new threats?’ Allison asks, looking serious. Derek shrugs. 

‘No. That doesn’t mean there aren’t going to be any though. And if they come, we need to be prepared. We _need_ Boyd. I hope you can understand.’ With that, he pushes his chair back from the table, gets up and leaves the room. 

‘I guess that’s that then’, Allison says softly, staring at the table. 

‘I guess so’, Lydia replies. 

Stiles just stares after Derek, wondering what happens next. 

* * *

The answer is that Stiles makes contact with Boyd at lunch the next day, giving him directions to the Hale House for that afternoon after school. And from there, it’s nothing new really, just the same explanations and questions as before. Then Boyd is given the bite and that’s it. 

Except it’s not. 

The thing is, unlike Isaac (who was basically pack even before he was turned) and Erica (who took everything offered with both hands), Boyd doesn’t integrate into the group. True, it probably doesn’t help things that half the pack is angry that he’s there in the first place. He doesn’t exactly help himself though. At lunch, he still sits alone for the most part, which really confuses Stiles. And when Boyd _does_ sit with them, he barely says a word. In fact, the only people who manage to get anything out of him are Isaac and Erica. 

Bizarrely, just when it seems like everything is going to hell, help comes in the form of the full moon. Unexpectedly, it turns out that Boyd has very little control of the shift. Derek – taking his Alpha duties more seriously than usual – decides it’s time to get his oldest beats involved, so Scott and Jackson spend the night inside with Boyd. When they come out in the morning (all looking worse for wear) there’s a certain closeness that wasn’t there before. And from then on, things get a little easier, although it’s by no means plain sailing. 

Then comes the unfortunate incident where some rogue hunters come into town, causing quite a fuss and sticking their noses in all the wrong places. It ends messily, with blood and bullets and both Boyd and Erica losing control in a serious way. Typically, that’s when Chris Argent comes rolling up in his black SUV. 

As is only to be expected, things take a sharp turn downhill from there, especially when – just four days later – Allison shares some news that makes Stiles’ blood run cold. 

‘My family aren’t happy with the way things have been going with the pack lately, especially after the other night’, she says with a weary sigh. ‘Anyway, my dad wanted to take care of things locally, but my mom… she’s invited my grandfather to intervene. He arrived this morning.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly don't know when I'll next update - the next chapter is started but things are crazy busy with uni so... it'll be here hopefully sometime in February. Hopefully.
> 
> Oh, and at some point, I promise I'll get round to posting the Sterek smut I promised y'all!


End file.
